That's What Friends Are For
by Lord Voldemort For President
Summary: Harry and Hermione were best friends… until third year. After Ginny was moved into their class, everyone started acting weird. If Hermione doesn’t want a boyfriend, does it mean she won’t have a friend at all?
1. Feelings

**Chapter One**

**-**

**Feelings**

"Something important's going to happen," Hermione Granger announced, as soon as Professor Snape had closed the door of the classroom behind him. Their potions teacher hand not been called out of the classroom for some trivial reason. Hermione was certain of that.

Draco Malfoy snorted. "Here we go again," he said, looking smugly around the classroom.

Nevile Longbottom ignored him. "Like what, Hermione?" he asked, his round face lit with interest.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, "but it's going to change things."

Nevile leaned forward in his chair. "What things?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "Just… things, Nevile. I don't know what things."

A curious murmur swept through the class. Professor Snape often left the classroom, leaving one of the students in charge (always a slimy Slytherin). Usually, he came back in a few minutes with fresh beetles' eyes, boomslang skin or snake fangs from the potion store room out in the hall. Occasionally he left just to be alone for a moment whenever the class got too rowdy. Whatever the reason, it was never _important_. As usual, Snape had left his most trusted student, Malfoy, in charge.

"Where'd you get your information?" Blaise Zambini asked nastily.

"Yeah," Malfoy sneered. "How do _you_ know?"

Hermione cleared her throat anxiously. She couldn't let them win. She knew she should ignore the boys' challenge, but, at the same time, she felt the need to defend herself. "I… have a…"

She glanced at Harry. He shook his head slightly as if to warn her not to say another word, but it was too late.

"…feeling," she finished.

Harry rolled his bright green eyes and slid down in his chair so that all Hermione could see of him was the side of his head. She winced, realising she had made a mistake.

Malfoy's eyes widened into two uneven circles. "Hear that, everybody?" he said. "The mudblood has a _feeling_." Pretending to bite his fingernails anxiously, he added, "Oh, wow! That really scares me," in a high-pitched voice. The Slytherins laughed.

A warm flush spread across Hermione's face to her ears. But she couldn't give in to her embarrassment. She had a responsibility here, feelings or no. "We're supposed to be doing potions," she scolded, and opened her book.

Malfoy swaggered to the front of the class arrogantly. "Let's take a vote," he said. "Who wants to do potions?"

A wave of moaning broke over the class. No one, evidently, wanted to do potions. Harry gave Malfoy a loathing look.

"I've got an idea." Malfoy turned to Hermione. "Why don't you just make our potions for us? Save everybody some time."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "That wouldn't be fair," she said. "Besides, I don't know how to make it."

Malfoy looked shocked. "_You _don't know how?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She was the smartest person in her class, but to expect her to memorize exactly how to make a potion that she had never come across before was asking too much. "No one knows how to until they read the procedure."

"Really?" Malfoy's expression was serious, but Hermione saw a teasing glint in his blue eyes. "I had a _feeling _you might have a _feeling _how to make it."

Pansy Parkinson snickered. "Honestly, Hermione, you and your _feelings_."

Hermione's ears throbbed with heat. She untucked her brown hair from behind them and let it fall forward.

Harry glared at Pansy, his eyes sparking with anger. "You're just jealous because you don't have any feelings," he accused Pansy.

Hermione sighed gratefully. She and Harry had been friends for a long time, since they were little first years. She could always depend on him to stick by her, even when she'd set herself up for a fall as she had just done.

Pansy's mouth narrowed to the size of a pencil line. "I do so have feelings! _Real _feelings about _real _things!" She threw her workbook at Harry.

He ducked. The book sailed past him. Malfoy raised his arm to deflect it. The manual seemed to hover in midair before changing direction. Horrified, the class watched it fly right for Professor Snape's table of beakers. It narrowly missed, but a glass vial smashed to the ground.

A low whistle escaped the cage of Harry's teeth. "I have a feeling that Hermione was right," he said.

Everyone knew what he meant. When Professor Snape saw what had happened, something out of the ordinary would definitely happen.

"Here he comes!" Seamus Finnigan announced.

Retrieving her workbook from the windowsill, Pansy nudged the broken glass under the table. Everyone else scurried to their places and opened their potions books.

Professor Snape paused outside the room. Through the window in the door, the class watched his greasy hair bob up and down. He was talking to someone. Someone short.

Finally, he threw open the door and strode into the classroom, his long black cloak billowing behind him. Snape's eyes flitted about the room suspiciously, then settled on the traces of broken vial on the ground. "Reparo," he muttered, and it instantly fitted itself back together again.

"Well, it sounds like you've all been working hard," he remarked dryly. The class straightened up automatically and chorused, "Yes, Professor Snape," obviously not detecting the sarcasm.

"Class, I have a pleasant surprise for you." Snape glanced to his left. Then, he whirled to look behind him. "Ginny, come here," he said exasperatedly. Muttering, he walked to the doorway and appeared to coax someone inside. Hermione recognised the name Ginny… but she couldn't quite put her finger on exactly who it was. She sat back in her chair and waited like the rest of the class.

After an expectant pause, a petite redhead stepped into the room in – of all things – a dress! With puffed sleeves! Hermione smiled. Ginny _Weasley_! Ron's little sister. She went to wave in a friendly manner, but suppressed it when Snape glared at her.

"This, everyone, is Ginny Weasley. She is your new classmate."


	2. An Important Event

**Chapter Two**

**-**

**The Important Event**

Ginny Weasley stood center stage, her hands cupped demurely at her plaid-ribboned waist, her eyes downcast, dimpling her dimples. Through the holes in the green window shades, light shone on her like spotlights.

For several seconds, everyone was absolutely still. Then, as if a dam had opened, letting water flood through, a murmur swept through the room. People squirmed in their seats trying to get a better view of the new girl. Some muttered comments. Others shot inquiring glances at Hermione.

Staring right at Hermione, Malfoy said, "So this is it? The important event?" loud enough for everyone to hear.

Hermione ignored him. Even if she'd wanted to answer, she wouldn't have know what to say. Ginny's arrival must have been what she had predicted. What else could it be? But was the addition of a new member to the class going to be so important? She wasn't certain. She sighed. Having feelings about future happenings and knowing exactly what they meant were not always one and the same.

Professor Snape clapped his hands together, smirking. "Attention, class," he said. "We wouldn't want a dear Weasley to get the wrong impression of us, would we?"

Lucky Ron isn't here, thought Hermione. Everyone snapped to attention. Ginny didn't notice. She was looking at her shoes.

The class looked at her shoes, too. Delicate black flats. Then, the girls looked down at their own shoes, bright, coloured sneakers with brand names written on them. There was a shuffling sound as they tucked their feet back under their chairs. Professor Snape stared at the girl as well, still at odds as to why she was there.

"Well, let's welcome her."

"Welcome, Ginny. We're glad you're here," the class mumbled.

Ginny glanced up. She smiled slightly at the class. Her dimples deepened.

The boys in Gryffindor hooted. Even a few Slytherins grinned back at her hungrily.

Pansy grimaced and mouthed, "Ginny," silently.

"Let's see… Ginny. Where shall we put you?" said Professor Snape as he cast his eyes over the room.

"Pansy," he directed, "please take your things and move to the empty seat next to Blaise."

Pansy sat in the first seat in the third row directly in front of Harry. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "Yes, Professor Snape," and started slamming her books together.

Hermione glanced at Harry. He grinned at her but gave no indication of his feelings about the new seating arrangement. She'd ask him about it before lunch.

While he waited for Pansy to make the switch, Professor Snape told the class, "We'll put Ginny up front until she catches on to our routine. Hermione Granger?"

Hermione stood up. "Yes, Professor Snape?"

"Why don't you be Ginny's… big sister for a while. Show her around. Answer any questions she might have."

Hermione hesitated. She glanced at Ginny. She looked nice enough, but how could Hermione be sure she'd like her? Of course, she had met Ginny before. Ginny had started in Hogwarts as a first year when Ron, Harry and Hermione were in second year. They had exchanged greetings when they met in the hall or common room, but they were barely even acquaintances. That would certainly change _her _life – at least for a while. If only she could talk it over with Harry before she accepted this new responsibility. She looked at him, but he was looking at Ginny.

"I don't think you'll have any trouble adjusting, Ginny," said Snape curtly, sitting down at his desk. "Miss Granger will help you over any… rough spots."

Hermione was miffed. She thought she had a choice here, but, apparently, she'd been wrong. It had already been decided.

"I'm sure you won't have any problems. The backgrounds of this class are certainly, shall we say, _diverse_," sneered Snape, giving Hermione a contemptuous look. Ginny smiled sympathetically.

On the way to her newly assigned place, Pansy poked Hermione with her elbow. "Dirty little mudblood," she muttered.

Ginny slipped into her chair just as Snape announced for the class to be dismissed. The students all began to file out of the classroom. She turned towards Hermione. "What now, Mione?"

Hermione was a little apprehensive about Ginny's sudden friendliness. Repeating "Mione!" Harry laughed.

Ginny looked confused. "Did I say something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head. "No one calls me _Mione_. Hermione will be fine."

Ginny nodded. "So, what do we do now?" she asked.

"Well, Ron is meeting Harry and I in the library for a spot of studying," said Hermione smugly. "Care to join us?"

Ginny hesitated. "Um…"

Parvati Patil walked up to greet Ginny, a kind smile on her face. "Actually, I was about to ask Ginny if she would like to have a bite to eat with me. If you wouldn't mind."

Ginny seemed torn between Hermione and Parvati. Harry gave her an encouraging smile. She turned away, blushing.

"Hermione, I don't mean to be rude, but I'd like to stay with Parvati for today." Ginny, regaining her composure, smiled sweetly.

"_I'm _supposed to be your big sister," Hermione objected. "You have to come with me."

"Girls!" Everybody else left in the room jumped a little. They turned to see Snape, who was packing up his things. "I _suggest _that if you wish to fight over Miss Weasley, you do so outside."

"Sorry, Professor Snape," said Hermione apologetically. "It doesn't matter anyway."

Hermione walked out of the classroom. Harry looked a little sheepish as he followed her out. He shot Ginny a small smile. She turned away. Her face had turned the same colour as her hair.


	3. Nice Boys

**Chapter Three**

**-**

**Nice Boys**

When Ron joined Hermione and Harry at their usual table, Hermione was saying, "She must be smart."

"What makes you think so?" Harry asked.

"I think that she's been moved into our class because she's exceptionally good at magic," explained Hermione.

"Who's been moved into our class?" Ron inquired, shuffling through his schoolbooks and crunching on an apple.

"Ginny," said Hermione very matter-of-factly.

Ron gasped, spitting out half the apple from his mouth. A bit landed on Harry, and he started wiping off the spittle and apple pieces frantically.

"_Who_?"

"Ginny," she repeated. "Ginny has been moved into our class."

"Bloody hell," sighed Ron, calming down a little. "She must be smart."

"That's Hermione's theory," said Harry.

Although Hermione didn't understand why, her friends' focus on Ginny made her feel uncomfortable. Deliberately changing the subject, she said, "I can't wait till next year."

Since the first day of school, the class had been focused on two things: their position as third years and their future status. Hermione was determined not to let the arrival of a new classmate change that.

As though on cue, Ron said, "Me neither. Just think: we'll be more than half way through Hogwarts!"

"Right," Hermione said.

"I can't wait till we have better access to Hogsmeade."

"Right," Hermione said again.

"And imagine being able to choose more of your classes!"

"Right," Hermione repeated. She felt like a cheerleader urging her team to victory.

A hoot rose up from the next table, and then the boys scattered, leaving Nevile sitting alone, a bottle of shrinking powder on each hand.

"Not again," said Harry.

Hermione shook her head. "He keeps falling for that trick." To Richard, she said, "Why do you keep falling for that trick? Your hands have barely grown back fully from the last time."

"I thought I could do it this time," Nevile mumbled. He raised one hand off the table slowly, held it in the air for several seconds, and then lowered it carefully so as not to spill the shrinking powder. Sighing heavily, he tried the other hand.

"Use your mouth," Hermione said. She meant for him to remove the bottle with his teeth. That would free a hand so that he could replace both bottles on the table without spilling any of the powder.

For several seconds, he looked confused. Then, his face brightened with understanding. "Help!" he said.

Hermione, Harry and Ron exchanged _can-you-believe-it _glances.

"Nevile!" Hermione said as she got to her feet.

"You told me to use my mouth," he said.

"I didn't mean like that!"

"Wait a minute. I've got an idea," Nevile said as he raised one hand again.

Hermione knew what was coming. "Nevile! Don't!" she warned.

Too late.

He dropped his hand suddenly. The bottle teetered and tipped, spattering the powder as it headed for the floor. Nevile grinned sheepishly as his hands began to shrink. "It didn't work," he said.

Hermione turned to Harry and Ron. "Boys are so stupid."

o-o-o-o-o

Out in the hallway, Lavender Brown was standing beside Ginny. Her mousy brown hair was limp and nearly past her shoulders. When she saw the other girls, she took Ginny's arm and marched toward them.

"She's still wearing that awful dress," Ron said.

Even Hermione, who thought the fine wale corduroy dress looked nice on Ginny, was surprised she hadn't changed into jeans or slacks when she saw everyone else wearing them.

Running backwards for a catch, Malfoy stumbled into Ginny and Lavender's path.

"Watch it," Lavender barked.

Ginny flashed her dimpled smile.

"She's actually smiling at Malfoy!" Ron marvelled.

As she approached Ron, Harry and Hermione, Ginny's smile widened. Her dimples deepened. She seemed bubbly and confident. Not at all the shy girl she had appeared to be this morning.

"They are so nice," she said and tossed a glance over her shoulder at the boys.

Harry groaned. "Nice. Nice? Nice!" He repeated the word as if she'd just heard it for the first time and was trying to figure out its meaning.

"In my class, the boys were awful," said Ginny.

"Ginny's class had the most _awful _boys," Lavender repeated, as if nobody had heard Ginny speaking the first time.

"Boys are awful everywhere," Hermione scoffed.

Ginny smiled at the boys, who were huddled a few feet away, watching.

"Did you ever see anybody so boy crazy?" Hermione whispered to Ron.

Harry nudged her disapprovingly.

Crabbe did a handstand and fell over on his back. Scrambling to his feet, he said, "I meant to do that."

Ginny laughed. "I thought it would be hard coming into a new class," she said. "But everybody's so nice."

"Ginny's mother makes candy," Lavender announce importantly.

No one quite understood what that had to do with anything, but they welcomed the change of subject.

"What kind?" Malfoy asked, coming up behind Ginny.

"All kinds," Ginny answered.

Like a broken record, Harry kept shaking his head and mumbling, "Nice," as he cast glances at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

Goyle's eyes widened. "Chocolate creams?"

Ginny nodded.

"Where's her store?" Goyle asked.

"She makes it at home," Ginny said.

"But where does she _sell _it?" Goyle persisted. Harry, Ron and Hermione translated that to mean, _Where can I buy it? _Candy - especially chocolate creams – was Goyle's weakness.

"She takes orders," Ginny told him.

Goyle stepped back and put his hands on his hips. His expression was disbelieving. "Your mother makes candy at home," he repeated. "It's a hobby."

Ginny nodded again.

"Then how come you aren't" – Goyle looked her up and down – "fat?"

Hermione blushed as if she'd been the one to ask that rude question.

"Because I don't like candy," Ginny explained simply. Then she smiled at Hermione. "I never saw anybody's ears get so red!"

Although her tone wasn't unkind, Hermione felt a sting in the words. Obviously, Ginny was as tactless as Goyle. And probably not too smart. Besides her dimples, Hermione wondered what else Ginny had to recommend her.


	4. The Prediction Comes True

**Chapter Four**

**-**

**The Prediction Comes True**

When Transfiguration class began, all the girls vied for a place in line beside Susie. Pansy won out.

"Ginny's mother has a candy business," Goyle told Blaise as the class assembled.

"No wonder she's so… sweet," said Blaise, looking around at everyone as if he'd just said something clever.

Ginny smiled. The boys groaned.

Mystified by everyone's behaviour, Hermione hung back. Harry came up beside her. "You look kinda… strange," he said. "Like you just lost your best friend."

Hermione smiled at him. _He _was her best friend. It was reassuring just to have him nearby. She wanted to ask him what he thought of Ginny and whether he'd noticed any change in their classmates, but now was not the time nor the place. Besides, she might be imagining the whole thing. Everybody acts a little different in the presence of a stranger. Perhaps she was detecting change only because she was expecting it. "Nothing," she said. "Did you study for the test?"

Harry hit his forehead with the heel of his hand.

"The test!" he exclaimed. "I forgot all about it."

The word _test! _Travelled through the line with the swiftness of a current through a wire.

Several people turned panicked eyes on Hermione. Ginny was one of them. As her big sister, Hermione felt duty bound to put her at ease.

"Tell Ginny not to worry," she said to Nevile, who was in front of her.

He just stared at her, his eyes blank.

"Pass it on, Nevile," Hermione urged. "Professor McGonagall won't expect her to take the test." She had a feeling McGonagall wouldn't give the test at all this afternoon. She was about to say so when Pansy asked, "What test?"

"Turning pencils into snakes," Hermione answered, "But…"

"Who told you we were having a test, Hermione?" Pansy asked.

"Professor McGonagall," replied Hermione. "Who else?"

"When?" Nevile said. His hands were still as small as a newborn baby's. "I don't remember anything about a test."

"She told us last week."

"Last week!" Pansy said.

"Serve her right if everyone fails," added Malfoy, smirking at Hermione.

"Right," said Crabbe dully.

"How can anyone remember something as stupid as a test that long?" said Pansy.

"Professor McGonagall said we have to get used to the idea," Hermione reminded them. "She said sometimes in fourth year we'll get assignments for the whole week or even a month. You're supposed to write them down in your assignment book."

"Who needs an assignment book with you around to remind us, mudblood?" Malfoy sneered.

"I didn't remind anybody about anything," Hermione said. "I wasn't even talking to any of you. I was talking to Harry!"

"Yeah," Harry chimed in. "She wasn't even talking to you guys. She was talking to me."

The line began to move.

"And besides, Professor McGonagall's not even going to give the test today," Hermione said.

"Who says?" asked Goyle.

"I have a…"

"… feeling," everyone finished.

Ginny cocked her head and stared at Hermione in a funny way, almost as if Hermione were a creature from another planet.

Oh great! Hermione though. That's all she needed was another person to make fun of her psychic abilities. Averting her eyes, she untucked her hair from behind her ear.

When the class was settled in their seats, Professor McGonagall said, "I promised you a grammar test this afternoon."

Heads turned toward Hermione. Writing her name in the right hand corner of a clean sheet of note book paper, she pretended not to notice.

Pansy muttered, "You and your _feelings_."

Hermione pressed down on her pencil point. It snapped.

"But I'm postponing it," Professor McGonagall continued.

The class breathed a collective sigh of relief. But no one looked at Hermione. She wasn't surprised. They were quick to tease her when she was wrong, but they rarely gave her credit when she was right.

Professor McGonagall walked towards the blackboard. "We have something more important to deal with this afternoon." She took a piece of chalk and wrote F-A-M-O-U-S W-I-T-C-H-E-S A-N-D W-I-Z-A-R-D-S F-A-I-R.

An astonished murmur broke over the room.

"That's what we're going to talk about?" Malfoy asked.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "I know you were expecting the fair to take place sometime in spring, but there's been a scheduling conflct and it's been moved up. We have only six weeks to prepard."

"That's a long time," someone said.

"It may seem so," Professor McGonagall said, "but it'll go by quickly. I hope everyone will participate." She went on talking about the fair, outlining the steps to follow. Finally she said, "What I want you to do now is make a list of famous witches and wizards that you could possibly create a project on." Over the sounds of notebook rings opening and closing, paper tearing, feet shuffling, she added, "Choose two of three things that interest you and write them down."

"Can we work with somebody?" asked Millicent.

"Yes," Professor McGonagall answered, "but not now. I want each of you to make a list. We'll compare them later and, on the basis of common interest, we'll decide on teams." She glanced at Ginny. "This project wasn't in your year, was it?"

Ginny shook her head.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "If you need any help, just say so."

Malfoy shot to his feet. "I'll help her, Professor McGonagall," he offered.

That was so unlike Malfoy. He had never before indicated an interest in girls – especially a Weasley – except as objects of his teasing. None of the boys had.

Even Professor McGonagall looked surprised. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy," she said. "But I'm sure that Miss Granger can answer Ginny's questions."

Ginny flashed Hermione a grateful smile. Looking disappointed, Malfoy sat down.

"Now, let's get to work," the teacher directed.

The noisy undercurrent trickled down to murmuring.

Hermione glanced around the room. People were bent over their papers or staring out the windows. Millicent's foot swung in circles. Nevile hummed. Parvati tapped her pencil on the desk. Professor McGonagall ambled up one aisle and down another, glancing at a paper here, making a suggestion there. Seemingly unaware of the distractions, Ginny was hunched over her desk, her left arm protecting her paper.

Hermione sighed. Usually she, too, could shut out everything and concentrate on the task at hand, but not this afternoon. Her mind kept skipping from one thing to another: Ginny's arrival this morning; her own mixed feelings about her role as big sister; Malfoy's uncharacteristic offer of help; her premonition that the sixth grade was about to change…

She pushed herself up with her arms and tucked a leg under her. She got out another pencil – her last sharpened pencil – and retraced her name and the date at the top of her paper. _Famous Witches and Wizards Project_, she printed at the centre of the first line. She skipped a line and wrote, _Newt Scamander_, immediately erasing it. She knew too much about him already.

The clock above the blackboard clicked and the big hand jumped forwards.

Hermione stared at Harry, hoping to get his attention. Maybe he'd give her an idea, but he was sitting sideways, his back to her.

She sighed again.

"Ssshhh," Nevile whispered.

She shot him a tight-lipped glance. He was the one making all the noise.

He grinned at her and resumed his humming.

"Ssssssshhhhhh!" hissed Mary.

Nearly every head turned to aim a dirty look her way.

o-o-o-o-o

Professor McGonagall kept Ginny after school.

Hermione was glad. It meant she didn't have to hand around playing big sister and miss the chance to walk around Hogsmeade with Ron.

"I'm sure glad Professor McGonagall didn't collect our papers," she said to him as they crossed the street.

"Me, too," Ron said.

Hermione was surprised. "Couldn't you think of anything, either?"

"Nope," he said. "I only thought of one.

"Really? Like what?"

"Viktor Krum."

Hermione grinned. "You can't just pick sports stars. What about a wizard or witch that really made a difference in the world?"

"She didn't say it had to be really nerdy people, Hermione. Just list what interested us," said Ron, rather miffed.

"But you can't just work on _Viktor_. There's not really much to him, is there?"

Ron said, "Whatever. You weren't the only one who couldn't think of _anything_. Ginny's paper was blank, too."

Hermione's eyes snapped toward him. She had wanted to bring up the subject of Ginny, but she hadn't known exactly what to say. This gave her an opening. "How'd you know?"

"I saw her paper. It was blank – she didn't even have her name on it."

Remembering how Ginny had hunched over her paper as if it were a treasure, Hermione asked, "How'd you do that? See her paper?"

Ron shrugged. "I looked over her shoulder."

Hermione nodded. It was just as she had predicted: things were changing. And Ginny Weasley was the cause.


	5. You Only Get One Face

**Chapter Five**

**-**

**You Only Get One Face**

All morning, Professor Trelawney was full of energy. From whispering in student's ears to jumping around wailing with glee, everything she did was the extreme. She stopped every now and then to make sure Ginny was keeping up. Ginny responded with polite, dimpled smiles, and soft replies.

Everyone else was on their best behaviour too. People who rarely answered in class waved their hands to be recognized, and everyone remembered to stand up when called on without being reminded.

Hermione, usually one of the first with the answers, didn't have the chance to recite at all. After a while, she didn't bother to raise her hand. Professor Trelawney didn't seem to notice. Instead, she commented favourably and often on everybody's participation and on the amount the class was accomplishing as a result.

o-o-o-o-o

Ginny stayed in the common room during lunch with Ron.

Still, she was present in Harry and Hermione's minds as they took their usual table near the entrance to the Great Hall. They were all so quiet it was as if the new girl had cast a spell over them.

Attempting to bring them back to themselves, Hermione said what she had said yesterday, "I can't wait till next year."

No one responded.

"I just can't wait," she repeated. She glanced at her friends expectantly, waiting for the customary responses.

Nevile was pressing a forefinger into his cheek. Harry was scrutinising his sneakers. Parvati and Padma were examining their sandwiches as if they thought they might be poisoned.

Across the room at the Slytherin table, Malfoy and his cronies seemed strange. They were eating their lunches in slow motion, sappy looks in their eyes.

"What's wrong with everybody?" Hermione asked.

"The question is, what isn't?" replied Padma.

"I think I need a new pair of shoes," said Harry.

"You got those last week," Hermione reminded him.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, well, things change."

"That's for sure," agreed Hermione.

"At least you can _buy_ shoes," Padma put in.

Everyone nodded. Except Hermione. She had never seen her friends act like this. The class had been together since first year. They had shared much, but nothing had ever affected them like this.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer.

"Padma means you only get one face," Nevile explained, leaning closer to the group.

"And one body," added Parvati.

"What I think we should do," announced Padma, glancing around the table to be sure she had everyone's attention, "is… ignore her."

"And what?" Hermione scoffed. "She'll just go away?"

Padma's dark eyes flashed with excitement. "You know, she might. I mean if she doesn't like it here, maybe she'll be moved somewhere else."

Hermione pilled the corners of her mouth back into her most effective _I-can't-believe-this! _expression.

"Mary's got them just like her!" Nevile exclaimed. He mimicked Hermione's expression.

Parvati and Padma copied Nevile.

Harry leaned close to inspect Hermione's face. "Those are just… creases," he said.

The others relaxed their faces.

"What are we _talking _about?" Harry asked.

"You know," Padma said impatiently.

"I guess we're talking about… dimples," Harry admitted. "I just don't know _why_."

"Because we don't have them and _she _does," Nevile said.

Parvati sighed. "And she's so… tiny."

"You always liked being the tallest girl," said Hermione.

"That was before," Parvati replied.

"Who says dimples are so great?" Hermione asked. "I mean we're acting like she's something special and we don't even know her." No one responded.

"You know what Professor Dumbledore always says," she added.

Everyone knew. Dumbledore always said that what counted was on the inside: a good heart and a curious mind.

Remembering that seemed to make everyone feel better until Nevile said, "What if she has those, too?"

o-o-o-o-o

That afternoon, a brief tension temporarily altered the mood during potions. Professor Snape, who always ambled up and down the aisles as he dictated the instructions, hesitated beside the desk covered in vials and beakers.

In the long silence that followed, Hermione had the urge to spring to her feet and confess. When heads turned in her direction, issuing mute warnings, she decided to remain silent.

Trying to concentrate on taking down the instructions, Hermione drew some new dots for her notes.

Finally, Snape muttered "Reparo," and turned back to the class.

"Add a square of boomslang skin to your cauldron. The squares have been measured out for you. As you shouldknow if you completed your research, the boomslang skin will help to give the mixture its powdery texture when cooled. It's positively… _smashing_."

Snape's eyes focused on Hermione accusingly. Then he continued speaking. "Then, you add the newt's eye to the pot and stir vigorously until the mixture thickens. I must warn you, do not, under any circumstances, stop stirring until the mixture thickens."

_DO NOT stop stirring_, Hermione noted down. In her hurry to stress the rule, she broke her quill. Her last quill. Snape turned and whipped away her piece of paper.

"Miss Granger has suggested that I collect your notes for marking. I assume you have all been taking notes, of course."

The class groaned in unison. Some people shot death glares at Hermione. She fumed silently.

"Now, I want you all to make a start on an essay about the myths and facts about the properties of newt's eye. It will be set for homework."

Hermione whispered, "Can I borrow a quill?" across to Harry.

Before he could respond, Ginny turned in her seat and presented Hermione with a second hand, worn out pigeon feather. And a smile.

"Thanks," Hermione said, "but you might need it."

Ginny shook her head. "I have a whole bunch." She held up an old pencil case made from spare fabric filled with old quills and fountain pens. "They have my name on them."

At the blackboard, Professor Snape stopped giving instructions and focused on Hermione. "Is there a problem, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shot to her feet. "Not exactly," she said.

"I broke a quill yesterday when we were doing the famous witches and wizards fair list and I forgot to get a new one. Then I broke my last one just before so I asked Harry if I could borrow one" – Harry pulled at the edge of her robe. She knew he was trying to tell her to be quiet, but she couldn't seem to stop. – "but Ginny said I could have one of hers" – Malfoy dropped his head to the desk and pretended to have fallen asleep – "but I thought she might need it so I said" –

"Do you have a quill now, Granger?" asked Professor Snape interrupted exasperatedly.

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other. "Well, no, because" –

Five hands reached out toward her, each holding a quill.

Hermione hesitated, not knowing which one to accept.

Harry grabbed them all and dropped them on her desk.

"That should take care of the problem," Snape concluded. "Class dismissed. Be sure you all have functioning quills next lesson."

Usually, someone would have teased Hermione about her habit of giving long explanations when asked a question, especially by anyone in authority. But today, no one said a word. Instead, they all crowded around Ginny's desk.

Hermione was relieved. And disappointed.

o-o-o-o-o

"Wait up!" Harry called.

At the end of the corridor, Hermione stopped and turned. Harry came loping towards her, his books tucked under his arm.

"What's your hurry?" he asked as he approached.

Hermione had left the classroom quickly without stopping to talk to Ginny as everyone else had.

Hermione shrugged. "No hurry."

"You sure disappeared fast." It sounded like an accusation.

"I didn't _disappear_; I just… left." Hermione resumed walking.

Harry said, "Whatever," and scuffed his shoes on the clean floor. Seeing McGonagall walking down the hall, he walked normally again.

"How'd you do in the potions essay we did last week?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "B minus. How can anybody remember the discovery of the uses in beetle's eyes anyway?"

"You just have to keep revising that stuff, Harry," Hermione replied.

"And all of the properties too."

"There aren't that many."

"It's all pretty stupid if you ask me. Potions," he scoffed. "Who cares?"

"If you can't do basic potions, Harry, what will you do when you leave Hogwarts?"

"Hire a secretary," Harry said.

"Someone like Ginny Weasley?" Hermione teased, surprising herself. She had had no intention of bringing up Ginny's name.

"Naw. She probably can't do potions either."

Now that the subject of Ginny was out in the open, Hermione decided to pursue it. "So what do you think of her?" she asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"What do _you _think of her?"

"I asked first," Hermione objected.

"I think you don't like her," Harry said.

"I didn't ask you what _I _think, Harry."

"Well, do you?"

"How do I know? I mean I don't even _know _her."

"You're never going to get to know her if you keep running away."

Hermione halted abruptly. Her hands flew to her hips. "I did not run away." The teasing twinkled in Harry's green eyes made her feel silly. Murmuring, "Oh, Harry," she swatted at him with her hand. "Why do you tease me all the time?"

He danced away, laughing. "Because you make it so easy."

"Very funny," she said. "Besides, how can anybody get to know anybody with everybody trying to get to know somebody?"

"It _was _kind of a crowd," Harry agreed.

"How come you didn't stay with everybody else?"

Harry bent over and picked up a small, smooth piece of tile. "It was getting ridiculous," he said as he tossed it into the air. "Goyle and Malfoy actually got into this big thing about who was going to carry Ginny's books."

"She didn't have any books," Hermione said.

Harry smiled. "I told you, the whole thing was stupid."

"How'd Ginny react?"

"She just kept smiling," Harry said, "but I think she's smart enough to know what's going on.

That was more than Hermione knew. She glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye. "You think she's smart?"

"Smart enough."

"For what?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know for what – for anything!"

"School?" Hermione persisted. "You just said she probably can't" –

"Don't worry, Hermione, you'll still be the smartest," Harry interrupted, an amused edge to his voice.

"Oh, I didn't mean…" her voice trailed off. She didn't know what she meant. "It was such a… crazy day. Everybody was so strange. All Ginny had to do was walk into the room and everybody wants to be her friend."

Harry laughed. "It's no big deal, Hermione," he said. "In a couple of days, Ginny'll just be another third year, and everybody will go back to being their obnoxious selves."

Although Hermione thought everyone was being obnoxious now, she knew what Harry meant. "I hope you're right."


	6. Boy Crazy

**Chapter Six**

**-**

**Boy Crazy**

Back in the common room, Hermione searched for Parvati. They had had plans to meet in the entrance hall after the classes had finished for the day, but with all the fuss over Ginny, Hermione had decided not to wait. Now she felt bad. It wasn't like her to leave as she had without a word to Parvati. She had to apologise. Maybe there was still time to meet her friend somewhere else.

Parvati was nowhere to be found in the common room. "They all went walking around the castle with Ginny," Professor McGonagall told Hermione.

Hermione sat on the sofa for a long time. There were so many feelings whirling around inside her, she didn't have the energy to move. How could Parvati do this? And without even telling her!

Nevile came into the common room, Trevor cradled in his arms. "Hi, Hermione," he said. "How was your day?"

"Weird," Hermione said.

"Ginny?" her friend asked.

Hermione was surprised. She hadn't told Nevile about what happened. "You know about that?" she said.

Nevile nodded. "Parvati told me."

"She told you?" Hermione hopped off the sofa.

"She said that everybody would be hanging around the great hall waiting for Ginny if you wanted to meet them there."

Hermione sighed heavily. Obviously, Parvati had forgotten all about their plans.

"You and Parvati had plans," Nevile said as though he had read Hermione's thoughts.

Hermione nodded. "I suppose it's as much my fault as Parvati's," she admitted. "I should've stayed, but everyone was acting so weird."

Nevile patted Trevor gently and placed him on the table. "New broom," he said as though that explained everything.

Hermione didn't understand. "What?"

Nevile sat down on the sofa. "It's what my grandmother always says," he explained. "A new broom sweeps clean."

"What's that have to do with anything?" Hermione asked.

"In a day or two the new girl'll be just one of the group, I suppose."

Hermione smiled. "You mean she'll be an old broom just like the rest of us?"

Nevile laughed. "I guess so," he said.

Hermione didn't see anybody all evening – not Parvati or Padma, Seamus, Dean, or even Ron. Finally, she spotted Harry coming back from the boy's bathroom.

"You should have come and waited for Ginny after class," he said.

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. "You went, too?"

"Everyone was there." He sounded defensive.

"I wasn't," Hermione said, realising immediately how dumb it sounded. He already knew she hadn't been there.

"Except you," he amended. "Why didn't you come?"

"For one thing, I didn't even know where you were." _And I don't care,_ she added silently. "Did you have a good time?"

"It was okay," Harry said. "Seamus had practiced this awesome charm for weeks, but when he did it he almost blew up the…"

"What did Ginny do?"

"She didn't turn up."

Hermione repeated, "She didn't turn up," to be sure she had heard correctly, then she began to giggle.

"She wasn't even there?"

Harry chortled. "I guess it is kinda funny."

This made Hermione laugh harder. Harry joined in. Before long, they were both laughing so hard they couldn't talk.

o-o-o-o-o

A few days after, it was as cold as ever at Hogwarts, but there were few third years in the common rooms. Many students had taken the train to Hogsmeade.

"Hi, Hermione," Ginny called out, running towards a figure huddled over in the cold. "Want to walk with me?"

Hermione hesitated, not knowing what to say. She liked to walk by herself, but she didn't want to hurt Ginny's feelings. "I… uh…" she began uncertainly.

Ginny strode forward until she was standing next to Hermione. She was wearing a dress, even in the cold; colourful flowers sprinkled on a yellow background. Too lightweight for winter, Hermione thought, but still, it looked nice on Ginny.

Ginny smiled. Even her dimples seemed less obvious this afternoon. "Do you always walk by yourself?"

"Sometimes," Hermione answered.

"I could never walk around by myself. I like company too much. So who do you walk with when you do walk with someone?"

"Harry and Ron, of course, but sometimes I meet someone along the way like Parvati or someone."

"Harry is really nice," Ginny said.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she said, "I like to walk, especially in the morning. It wakes me up. Gets me ready for school."

Laughing, Ginny said, "Nothing could get _me _ready for _school_."

Hermione laughed too. She liked school so much that she never believed those who said they didn't. She figured they only said it to make an impression.

"It's not that I don't _like _it," Ginny went on. "It's just that I'm not very… good at it."

"I'll bet you are," Hermione said, remembering how attentive Ginny had been in class.

"No, really, I'm not."

Hermione shrugged. Who was she to argue?

They walked along in silence until Ginny said, "I was sorry I wasn't around yesterday when you were all waiting for me."

Hermione opened her mouth to say she hadn't been there, then decided against it. "Where were you?"

"I went to visit all of my friends from my old class. It's really strange, going back like that. It seems like everybody has changed."

Hermione thought about her friends. They had been around her forever. She wondered if Ginny knew just how much the class had changed because of her. "I like things to stay the same," she said.

"Some things," Ginny agreed.

As they began catching up to a large group of girls, Hermione stopped abruptly.

The girls were knotted on the steps outside Honeydukes. They were all wearing dresses! Except Pansy, who was in her best slacks.

Ginny followed her gaze. Then, she turned questioning eyes on Hermione.

"They're wearing dresses!" Hermione explained.

"Oh," Ginny said, but she obviously didn't understand Hermione's surprise.

As the other girls scrambled toward them, the boys headed them off, crowding around Ginny.

Unnoticed, Hermione drifted out of the circle to join her complaining classmates.

"It's not fair." Pansy's black hair bounced as she bobbed her head for emphasis. "She should talk to us, not the boys."

"I told you she's just boy crazy," Millicent put in smugly.

Hermione glanced toward the boys. Malfoy and Goyle's voices rose as they vied with each other for Ginny's attention. The others urged them on or grinned silently at Ginny. At the centre, she stood smiling sweetly.

"No wonder I couldn't find her at all last night," Parvati said. "She was probably walking around with one of _them_." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards the boys.

"She was gone all night," confirmed Padma.

Hermione was irritated. Obviously, nobody had bothered to try and catch up with _her_ last night. Their attitude towards Ginny annoyed her, too. Only yesterday, she might have agreed that Ginny was boy crazy, but this morning, she wasn't so sure. Ginny hadn't invited any of this attention, and, no matter how sweetly she smiled, she seemed uncomfortable with it.

"Look at her," Katie Bell scoffed.

Millicent looked down at her plaid dress. "How come none of the boys are talking to us?"

"That's what I want to know," Pansy said. "We wore dresses, too."

"It's because she's boy crazy," Parvati said.

The conversation was making Hermione dizzy. "I give up," she muttered and stalked off. She looked back. Ginny was skipping towards her. Crowding around Ginny, the girls cut her off.

One minute they were calling her names and the next they were jostling one another to get close to her! Hermione shook her head.

"What's happening?" Harry asked as he walked up to her.

"Beats me," Hermione said.


	7. Poor Little Me

**Chapter Seven**

**-**

**Poor Little Me**

The events of the morning didn't help to ease Hermione's confusion. People found excuses to pass by Ginny's desk and drop notes. The new girl accepted each with a shy smile and, when no one was looking, tucked it into her pencil case without reading it.

Hermione sat back in disbelief. Her classmates, people she had known forever, were suddenly strangers. Ginny, too, was a puzzlement. At Hogsmeade she had been open and talkative. Here, in the classroom, she was a different person, shy, almost withdrawn.

During the last class of the day, Professor McGonagall asked Ginny to read a passage from a guide to transfiguration. It was the first time since her arrival that she had been called on. An expectant silence fell over the class as though it were an audience waiting for the show to begin.

The colour drained from Ginny's face as she got to her feet. Biting her lower lip, she adjusted the book in her hands.

"Ginny?" Professor McGonagall said at last.

Ginny started. "Yes, Professor McGonagall?" she said softly.

"Have you lost the place?"

Dropping her gaze to the book, Ginny shook her head slightly and took a deep breath. Then, in a small, halting voice, she began to read.

Hagrid came rushing in.

"There's a hippogriff loose on the grounds, but he's a bit flustered, so - "

Suddenly, a hippogriff's curious head peeked through the window. Some of the students screamed, and a few scrambled out of their chairs. Ginny's whole body relaxed, but she let out a small squeal as well.

"Order!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "We will go through the emergency procedure while Hagrid gets the hippogriff under control. Line up by rows."

The people who hadn't stood up already hopped out of their chairs.

"Quickly. Quietly," the teacher reminded them. She threw open the door and marched out, leading the way to the nearest exit.

Behind her, people jockeyed for positions close to Ginny, but Harry, who was behind her, held his ground.

By the time the class had found its place in the entrance hall, Hermione was at the end of the line. She shivered in the cool air feeling left out and lonely.

Professor McGonagall began a head count while they waited for the signal to return to their classroom.

"This is the sloppiest line I have ever seen," she said curtly. "I can't tell who is here and who is not." She waved her hands, palms parallel, as though she were straightening a stack of papers. "Let's line up according to height."

That kind of line was the professor's favourite. Hermione liked it, too. It meant that Harry was always right behind her. Smiling, she slid in between him and Ginny.

"Ginny's taller than you, Hermione," Pansy said from her place near the front of the line.

Hermione pulled a face. Why couldn't Pansy mind her own business? "She is not!"

Everybody stepped out of line and stood back to measure.

"Professor," Pansy persisted, "isn't Ginny taller than Hermione?"

Several yards away, conferring with another teacher, Professor McGonagall didn't respond.

Millicent put a hand on each girl's shoulder. "Turn around, you two."

Hermione stiffened. "I will not turn around," she objected. But she did.

When Millicent was satisfied that both girls were standing correctly, back to back, heels down, she bridged their heads with an open palm. "Ginny's taller," she announced.

Hermione's hand flew to her head. Ginny did seem taller by a fraction – too small a fraction to justify a change. Hermione belonged near Harry. It was her place. It had been her place since first year.

"Her hair's higher than mine," Hermione said. "That's the only difference."

Pansy shook her head. "It has nothing to do with hair," she said.

Hermione looked to Harry, certain he'd back her up.

Avoiding Hermione's eyes, he confirmed, "Ginny's taller."

"Told you," Millicent said and pushed Ginny into line.

Ginny whispered, "Sorry," into Hermione's ear, but that didn't change the fact that she was now between Hermione and Harry.

o-o-o-o-o

Back in the classroom, Professor McGonagall lectured on the seriousness of emergency procedures. "We were the worst class," she said. "Slowest. Noisiest. Most disorderly. Totally unacceptable." She made the rest of the class line up by rows again. "You're getting older," she admonished them. "You must set a good example." She led them outside and back in, repeating the entire process until she was satisfied with their behaviour. By the time she released them, there was little time for lunch.

On the way back to the common room, Harry joked, "She's so worried about an emergency, she'll starve us to death."

"It was all Hermione's fault that we had to go through all that," Padma put in.

A hot rush of anger flooded Hermione. "_My _fault? How was it my fault?"

"If you'd just let Ginny in line behind you without making a big scene about it," Padma said.

Hermione's mouth dropped open in disbelief. She tried to defend herself, but all that came out was a series of sputter.

She looked to Harry to rescue her, but he had dashed on ahead to join Seamus and Dean.

Parvati, who had stopped at the girls' room, caught up to the group as they sat down on the couch. "How'd you like _reading_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.

Seamus chortled. "I never thought she'd get through the first sentence."

"She didn't!" Parvati said. "That's what I mean."

"Do you suppose…?" Seamus shook her head as if to clear away the thought.

But Seamus scooped it up. "She can _read_," she said. "It's part of her act."

Nevile's round face crinkled with the effort of understanding. "What act?"

"Her _poor-little-me _act, that's what act."

There was a long silence while everyone thought about that.

Finally, Nevile said, "I don't get it."

"She wants the boys to think she's helpless," Seamus said.

"Why would she want to do that?" asked Nevile.

"So they'll _help _her, why else?"

A light went on in Nevile's eyes. "You mean she was… pretending she couldn't read?"

"Right," said Seamus.

"Why would anybody do that?" asked Parvati.

"Boys like dumb girls," said Padma.

Parvati wasn't convinced. "What'd you think, Hermione?"

Hermione's rapid change of emotion – from anger at Ron to disappointment with Harry – so absorbed her that she wasn't aware of the shift in the conversation. At the sound of her name, she murmured, "Why's everybody blaming me?"

Padma said, "Nobody's blaming you. Who said anything about blaming you?"

"You did, Padma, that's who." With tears stinging her eyes, Hermione headed for the girls' room.

Parvati came in at her heels. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a wild look in her eyes. "I can't believe what just happened!" she said.

Hermione brushed away her tears with the back of her hand and smiled at her friend. She should've known Parvati wouldn't let her down. Next to Harry, Parvati was her best friend. She was always sensitive to people's feelings. Hermione felt bad that she had been so quick to lump her with the others.

"Draco held the door for me!" Parvati danced in a circle. "We were coming out of the classroom and he ran ahead to hold the door for me! And he actually smiled at me! Can you believe it!" She rushed to the mirrors over the sinks and puffed up her cheeks. "My face is too round."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. She stared at Parvati, her tears forgotten.

"Maybe if I change my hair," Parvati said, catching Hermione's reflected eyes. "What do you think, Hermione?"

Parvati's sleek, black hair was soft and curly around her face. Swallowing hard, Hermione said, "I like your hair."

Turning, Parvati laughed. "I don't mean _that_! About _Draco_! Do you have any… feelings – any _psychic _feelings – about Draco and me? Do you think he… likes me?" She lowered her voice as though to keep the walls from hearing.

"No," Hermione answered. "I don't have any feelings about that. I don't have any feelings about _anything_."

Hermione suddenly remembered the time, before she went to Hogwarts, when she moved house. It occurred to her that the third year was like her old house: a place she had once lived in comfortably. Now, however, some stranger had moved in and begun to remodel it. And Hermione didn't know how to feel or what to do.


	8. You Don't Know Me

**Chapter Eight**

**-**

**You Don't Know Me**

"Have you been thinking about your projects?" Professor McGonagall asked after lunch.

Everyone looked at her blankly.

"The Famous Witches and Wizards projects for the fair," she prompted.

Everyone nodded. "Yes, Professor McGonagall," they chorused.

"Good," she said. "Let's hear some of them." No one volunteered.

Hermione sank down behind Neville, but she knew Professor McGonagall would call on her anyway.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione stood up. "I – uh – can't think of anybody, Professor McGonagall," she said. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Ginny turn to look at her. Hermione dropped her head forward, letting her hair fall over her ears.

"Keep thinking," the teacher said, "you'll come up with something. But don't reach too far. The best ideas are right in front of us."

Hermione wished she shared her teacher's confidence.

"Neville Longbottom?"

Neville shot to his feet, knocking his neighbour's book on Helga Hufflepuff to the floor.

"Are you doing something on a founder of Hogwarts?" the professor asked lightly.

Neville's eyes widened. "How'd you guess?" he asked as if he'd been planning all along to make that his project.

The class laughed.

Ron was next. "Viktor Krum," he said enthusiastically.

"I'm afraid he isn't a famous _wizard_, Mr Weasley," Professor McGonagall told him. Ron looked insulted.

Hermione shot him an _I-told-you-so _look.

Ron shrugged.

Professor McGonagall called on Pansy.

"Newt Scamander," she said.

Hermione glared at her. Pansy was copying her idea, and it made her mad.

"Keep working," the teacher told the class. "We'll talk more sometime in the next week or so."

o-o-o-o-o

"Are you going right back to the common room?" Hermione asked Harry when classes had finished for the day. She was anxious to talk to him.

"I thought I'd hang around, see what the guys are doing," he answered. "Why?"

She shrugged. "No reason. I just thought" – Ginny dropped her assignment notebook – "we could" – Harry leaned over and picked it up – "talk about the projects, but…" her voice trailed off. She was wasting her breath. Harry wasn't listening. He was smiling sappily at Ginny.

Malfoy sauntered over. "Hey, Gin," he said. "Some of us are going to meet in the Great Hall before dinner. Wanna come along?"

Behind him, Parvati glowered.

"Ginny's hanging out with me," Lavender informed him.

"No, she isn't," said Millicent. "She's hanging out with _me_."

"Who says?" Lavender challenged.

"She got my note first," Millicent replied. "Didn't you, Ginny?"

Unnoticed, Hermione slipped out of her chair and went to the coatroom. The long, narrow room smelled, as it always did, of pumpkin pasties and chalk dust. Setting her books on the wooden floor, she grabbed her cloak. She stood by the door as she put it on, watching Ginny, who sat calmly at her desk, while everyone argued around her. Sighing sadly, Hermione picked up her books and started for the Gryffindor common room.

She was at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the portrait of the Fat Lady when she heard running footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. "Ginny!" she exclaimed, stopping in her tracks.

Ginny pounded up beside her, laughing and breathless. "I thought I'd never catch up to you!" Her cheeks were rosy, and her red hair was windblown.

Hermione squinted into the distance, expecting to see everyone else running along behind Ginny.

"Where is everybody?"

"Still arguing about who's doing what with whom," Ginny said, her eyes twinkling. "They never even saw me leave:

Serves them right, Hermione thought.

"Are they always like that?" Ginny asked. "I mean just because they write a person a note…"

"And you didn't even read them," Hermione said.

Biting her lower lip, Ginny flashed a guilty look.

"You saw me?" Then she laughed. "I never read notes people send in class. Because if I do, I have to answer them, and then I get caught. I'm the one who _always _gets caught."

"Really?" Hermione said. She felt exactly the same way about herself, but she imagined Ginny's looks and sweet manner would allow her to get away with anything.

Ginny nodded. "And I have enough trouble in school without making it worse."

Hermione said, "You seemed really nervous when Professor McGonagall called on you to read." Instantly, she wished she could take back her words.

But Ginny was the least disturbed by them. "I thought I'd throw up," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "I hate reading out loud. Everything starts pounding in my ears and that's all I can think about."

Hermione understood that. "I used to get real nervous, too," she said. "I still do get nervous, but not that bad anymore."

Ginny's eyes widened with interest. "How'd you get over it?"

"Well, I try to think of something else."

Ginny groaned. "If I did that, I'd never understand what I'm reading."

"I don't meant I think of something else; I think about the words, but I don't think about reading them out loud in front of everybody."

"You mean you pretend you're somewhere else?"

"I don't think about the place at all."

"So you pretend you're… nowhere?"

Although Ginny couldn't know it, she had just crystallised what Hermione had been feeling: she _was _nowhere. Hearing it eased the tension she'd been experiencing the last two days. She laughed. "I don't have to _pretend _that!" she said lightly.

Ginny looked surprised. "You?" she said. "You should never feel like that. You're perfect, Hermione. I wish I could be just like you."

The sincerity in her voice made Hermione uncomfortable. She reached up and unhooked her hair from behind her left ear. "You don't know me," she objected, "or you wouldn't say that. You wouldn't ever say that."

"Oh, I know all kinds of things about you," Ginny assured her. "You're smart and honest and nice." She smiled proudly. "My father says I'm very good at sizing people up." She slipped her arm through Hermione's. "Want to take the train to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Hermione thought about it. Anyone else in the class would have jumped at the invitation. But Ginny was the reason she had been feeling so gloomy. On the other hand, Hermione didn't have anything better to do. "Okay," she said at last. "Why not?"


	9. Honeydukes

**Chapter Nine**

**-**

**Honeydukes**

Boxes filled with candy stood around the back area of Honeydukes waiting to be unpacked.

"I'm so lucky to be able to get into this area. Fred and George know the owners, so I'm free to come in any time I like," Ginny explained as she led Hermione through a swinging door into the kitchen. "I only come when I have friends, though. I don't like candy."

This large, light room, by contrast to the others, seemed unusually neat and orderly. In the centre was a large block. On top of that was a marble slab. And the room smelled wonderful – all sweet and warm.

At the stove, stirring something in a big pot, a woman with a graying braid wrapped around her head smiled at the girls.

"I'm just showing my friend around," Ginny said.

The woman laughed. "I'm sure you'll like the decorating," she joked.

Ginny led the way through the kitchen to a little hall where she opened a door. Stepping aside to let Hermione enter, she said, "This is where we store the candy."

Hermione squinted into the small room. She took a tentative step inside. It was so cold and dark she felt as though she were entering a giant refrigerator.

"Too much light and heat aren't good for candy," Ginny said. She waved her wand slightly and muttered "lumos".

Even then, Hermione could barely make out the boxes on the shelves that lined the walls. "Those boxes aren't all filled with candy," she said. "They can't be!"

"They are," Ginny assured her. She held out a box. "Want some?"

Hermione's mouth watered at the sight of the chocolate mounds, and it was all she could do to keep from reaching out and snatching several from their white paper nests. "Won't that lady be mad?"

"The ones on this shelf," Ginny indicated a bottom shelf, shorter than the others, next to the only window in the room, "are rejects."

Hermione leaned close to the box. The chocolate aroma was so powerful it made her dizzy. "What's wrong with them?"

Ginny shrugged. "Cracked or not the right shape – stuff like that."

Hermione thought that they looked perfect to her as she lifted one from the box. She bit into the chocolate. A syrupy liquid ran down her chin. Laughing, she commented, "Cherry. My favourite."

"They're supposed to have a swirly C on top," Ginny said as she glanced at the remaining pieces, "but with rejects, you can never tell." She pushed the box towards Hermione. "Have some more."

"Aren't you going to have any?" Hermione asked, remembering her manners just as her hand was about to dig in.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't like candy."

Hermione looked at her in disbelief.

"I used to," added Ginny, seeing Hermione's expression, "when I was first allowed in here. When it's around you a lot of the time, you sort of lose your taste for it."

Hermione doubted that would ever happen to her. "Are you sure it's okay to have more?" Ginny nodded, so she took two more pieces. Maple. Vanilla. Her second and third favourites.

A voice called from the kitchen. "Ginny, could you help me lift this box?" Ginny handed Hermione the box and dashed out of the room to help.

Hermione stared down at the box as though it were a trap she didn't know how to get out of. Finally, she took another piece, set the remainder on its shelf, and turned her back on it.

The words, "So how is the new grade going for you?" drifted in to her.

Hermione bit her lip, and stepped out into the hall.

"I like it," Ginny was saying. "Everybody's been really friendly, and I met this girl – Hermione Granger. Everybody calls her Hermione, but I like Mione better. She's really nice."

Guilt rippled through Hermione. Contrary to what Ginny thought, she did not know Hermione's true character.

Thinking that made Hermione feel so awful that she decided she needed one more piece of candy. She slipped back into the room where she quickly snatched another piece and popped it into her mouth. Rum. Her least favourite. She held the box close looking for a swirly C. When she heard the thump of a box and Ginny coming into the hall, she grabbed the nearest piece. Orange. Her second to least favourite. I'm not very smart either, she chided herself, or I would have quit when I was ahead.

Ginny came in and leaned against the wall. "I was really surprised when you said you didn't have a science project," she said.

Hermione shrugged. "Science isn't my favourite subject."

"But with your _feelings _and all," Ginny said.

Hermione couldn't imagine what psychic feelings had to do with science projects. She looked at Ginny, a question in her eyes, but Ginny had turned towards the windows.

"Oh, look!" she said.

Hermione came up beside her. "It's the boys!" She scanned the group knotted in front of Honeydukes. She spotted Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle, Seamus, Dean, Ron and Neville, but she couldn't see Harry. She glanced further down the path. Another band was trooping towards them: the girls! "Practically the whole of Hogwarts is down there!"

Ginny tugged at the window. "I bet they've been looking all over for you, Hermione."

Ginny was nice to say that, but she couldn't possibly believe it. "They came to see _you, _Ginny," Hermione said. "Not _me._"

Ginny managed to get the window open far enough for her to lean out. "Hey, out there!" she called.

Hermione crouched down beside her.

Outside, the two groups – boys and girls – had merged into one and were engaged in such animated conversation that they didn't notice Hermione of Ginny.

"They didn't come to see either of us," Ginny said. She began to laugh. The sound rippled up over Hermione like a wave. Hermione started to laugh too.

"They came to see each other!"


	10. Desicions, Desicions

**Chapter Ten**

**-**

**Decisions, Decisions**

"If you don't come down for dinner right this minute, Harry Potter, I'm going without you!" Hermione called as she stormed into the Gryffindor common room.

Behind a haze of purple cloud, Harry peered out at her. "Sometimes you sound just like Aunt Petunia," he scoffed.

Hermione hated for him to say that. And he knew it.

"We're already late, Harry!" The teachers were probably frantic. But Harry needed to eat some dinner for the Quidditch game tomorrow, and Hermione needed to talk to him anyway.

Harry flicked his wrist and more purple clouds sprang from his wand. He scowled, and began to practise flicking his wrist. "I can't get this spell right," grumbled Harry.

She turned her back on him. "I'm going," she said and began to march towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. "You can stay in here all night and lose the Quidditch match tomorrow for all I care."

Harry sighed and tucked the wand into his pocket. "What's the rush?" he asked, catching up to Hermione as she stepped out of the portrait.

"We're late for dinner."

"So?"

"So I'm always on time for dinner."

"That's your first mistake," Harry said. "If you _always _do something, teachers get to expect it. You should keep them guessing. It gives them something to do."

"It's different with you," Hermione said. "The professors here expect exemplary behaviour from me."

Harry chuckled. "It's not the professors, Hermione. It's you."

This was not the first time she had heard that. Harry and Ron said she depended too much on schedule. They should she should be more flexible. But she was not a spur of the moment person.

Deliberately changing the subject, she asked him, "So where'd _you _go at Hogsmeade last weekend?"

He pulled out his wand again and began to practice his technique again. He started looping his wand around, shooting more purple clouds. "Nowhere."

She stepped back to avoid his flailing arm and coughed a little on the smoke. "The rest of the boys came over to Honeydukes."

He stopped midcircle, his arm hanging forward. "How'd you know?"

"I was there."

"You?" His arm fell to his side. "Were at Honeydukes?"

Hermione nodded. "Ginny asked me to come with her there." She shrugged. "So I went."

"I thought you didn't like her."

"_You _said that. I didn't," Hermione said. "Why weren't you with the boys?"

"I didn't feel like following Ginny around."

"I thought you liked her."

He grinned. "You said that. I didn't."

"Well, you sure act like you like her."

"She's all right," he said. "Cute and all that, but not worth all the…" Unable to find the right word, he shrugged.

"Millicent Bulstrode thinks she's boy crazy."

"She has a funny way of showing it," Harry said. "Like the other day. She just disappeared. There everybody was fighting over her, and she wasn't even there!" He chuckled. "I was the only one who saw her leave."

"What'd they say when you told them she was gone?"

"Me? I didn't tell them. Why should I tell them and spoil all the fun?"

They both laughed.

Growing suddenly serious, Harry asked, "Hermione, if you could pick someone from the class – someone to be your… boyfriend – who would it be?"

Despite his serious expression, Hermione thought he was joking. "No one!" she said emphatically.

"What about… Ron?" he persisted.

Hermione rolled her eyes skyward as if to say, Save me!

"Seamus?"

Hermione groaned.

"Dean?"

She said "Harry!" hoping to put an end to this ridiculous conversation.

A smile broke across his face. "Me? Really?"

"You? My boyfriend?" She giggled. "That's the funniest thing I ever heard!" She broke into a hardy laugh, expecting Harry to join in.

But he didn't.

o-o-o-o-o

Hermione went to her dorm room immediately after dinner. She glanced around at the crimson walls, the mahogany wallpaper border, the Gryffindor patchwork quilt on her bed. She liked the peaceful order of the room. It quieted her mind and helped her organise her thoughts. And they certainly needed organising today!

Folding a leg under her, she sat at her maple desk, lit her oil lamp, and opened her Arithmancy nook. But she couldn't concentrate. She kept thinking of her conversation with Harry, wondering why he had asked her whom she would choose to be her boyfriend. He knew her well enough to know it wasn't a subject that interested her. Boys were all right but, except for Harry and Ron, she thought it better to have as little to do with them as possible. They weren't… serious people.

Even those who were very bright made fun of school. Sports were all any of them cared about, which made no sense to Hermione at all since, aside from their value as exercise, sports were meant to be a diversion, something to take a person's mind off the really important things in life.

She sighed, wishing she had someone to talk about the changes in third year. But they were all a part of what was happening, and they wouldn't understand. _She _didn't understand it.

Lavender Brown, who rarely spoke to Hermione, arrived at her dorm room at seven.

"How come you went to Hogsmeade with Ginny?" she asked, her tone accusing.

"Because she asked me," Hermione said simply. She wasn't going to let Lavender make her mad.

"A lot of people ask me places I don't go," Lavender shot back.

Hermione didn't respond. If Lavender wanted an argument, she'd have to find someone else.

"Besides," Lavender went on," I didn't think you liked her."

"I never said I didn't like her." Silently, Hermione added, You're the one calling her names all the time.

"But you acted like you didn't."

"When?"

"During the hippogriff thing for one," Lavender snapped.

"That didn't have anything to do with Ginny." Hermione wanted to add, You just wanted to cause trouble, but that would only make Lavender madder. Instead, she said, "Listen, Lavender, I can't talk now. I have to finish my Arithmancy."

Lavender left the room without saying goodbye, slamming the door on her way out.

Almost immediately, Padma came in. Hermione could hear voices coming from the common room.

"Hi, Hermione," Padma said. "How are you?"

Hermione heard a muffled giggle.

They're all together, Hermione thought. She imagined the girls gathered in the common room, having a laugh at her expense. Well, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of thinking it bothered her. She said, "I'm fine. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm okay. I just thought I'd come, you know, to talk."

"About what?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Whatever." She paused for a long time during which Hermione could hear whispered prompting. "I was wondering," Padma said finally, "how'd you like hanging out with Ginny?"

"It was fine," Hermione responded.

"Did she say anything?"

"About what?"

"I don't know – anything. Like, about any of the… boys or anything."

"No," Hermione said.

Someone whispered, "Get out, Padma," to which Padma whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "No!" Then she said to Hermione, "No? Really? What did you talk about?"

"We didn't talk much," Hermione answered, waiting with delicious anticipation for the next question.

"What did you do?"

"Ate candy," Hermione, emphasizing every word carefully and getting up from her chair and walking towards the door, "the most delicious candy I have ever tasted." Then, she shut the door.

It opened again. Hermione closed it again before seeing who had opened it and shouted, "I have better things to do than talk to you." Although she hated arguments, she felt a satisfying surge of victory.

The next time the door opened, she waited for it to open completely. She didn't say a word.

"Hermione?" It was Parvati. "Listen, I don't blame you for closing the door on me."

Hermione listened for background sounds, but she heard none.

"I mean, what I did a few lunchtimes ago!" Parvati went on. "Padma was being horrible to you, and all I could think about was Draco. And the other day, we had plans, and I just went off to meet Ginny with everybody else. I did try to find you and all, but…" She paused. "Hermione are you okay?" She paused again. "I just wanted you to know that I feel really bad about all that, and - "

Hermione couldn't stand to hear the sadness in her friend's voice. "It's okay," she interrupted. "I'm not mad."

"Really?" Parvati said. "Let's do something next weekend, okay?"

"Okay," Hermione agreed, adding lightly, "you need all the friends you can get. I mean anyone who flips over Draco Malfoy of all people!"

Parvati laughed. "Isn't it weird? I don't even _like _him!"

"Everything's weird," Hermione said.

"That's for sure," Parvati agreed.

"_Greg _even asked who _I'd _pick for a boyfriend!"

Where that had struck her as disturbing before, it seemed hilarious now. She began to laugh, thinking Parvati, too, would see the humour in it.

But Parvati's voice was serious when she asked, "Who _would _you pick, Hermione?"


	11. Losing His Mind

**Chapter Eleven**

**-**

**Losing His Mind**

"Were you serious when you asked me about boyfriends?" Hermione asked Harry on the way to class. She had thought a lot about that conversation and the one with Parvati. Everyone else seemed suddenly interested in this boyfriend/girlfriend thing; maybe Harry, too, had actually caught the fever. If so, she wanted to know.

There was a long pause during which Harry eyed her warily. Finally, he asked, "Why?"

"I think I should know, that's all. I mean we're friends and friends let one another know when… they… change about things."

A light went on in his green eyes. "That's exactly why I asked you about it," he said. "I figured maybe you'd picked someone out, and you didn't think you could tell me."

"Why would I think I couldn't tell you?"

He shrugged. "It happens," he said. There was a wise certainty in his tone as though he spoke from experience. "Liking someone of the opposite sex changes things."

Hermione thought she knew exactly what he meant. Parvati's crush on Malfoy had affected their friendship. Sure, Parvati has apologized for her insensitive behavious, but before Malfoy, there would've been no need for apology. "You have nothing to worry about," Hermione assured him. "I am not about to pick anybody. There is no way I want a _boy_friend. And I _know _you're not going to be silly enough to get a crush on some _girl_."

Harry didn't respond. Instead, he took out his wand and began practising some more spells. He twisted his wrist and shot out a plume of purple flame. He cursed softly, and tried the same thing, but with more violent arm movement this time.

Hermione knew that spell, and she also knew how to get it to work correctly. She stopped and, sighing, turned to watch him. "Har-_ry_," she said. "How can we talk when you're doing _that_?"

He didn't seem to hear her.

She glanced at her watch. "We're going to be late," she called over her shoulder, speeding up.

He caught up with her. "You worry too much," he said.

"It makes me nervous being late."

He laughed. "How can it? You've never _been _late!"

The corridor outside the classroom looked different. Usually, the boys huddled together near the wall while the girls crowded around the door. Today, the groups had disbanded into loose clusters of both boys and girls.

Malfoy lounged against a tapestry under the adoring eyes of Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkison. Lavender, Parvati, Ron and Seamus sat on the staircase, talking and laughing. Everywhere, the scene was the same.

Things might have changed in the third year, but Hermione had never expected them to go this far!

"What _is _going on?" she said as she and Harry approached the class.

"The guys think that if they talk to the girls they'll look popular," Harry responded.

"Why would they want to do that?"

"So Ginny'll notice them."

Glancing around, Hermione said, "But Ginny isn't even here!"

Parvati ran up beside them. She smiled at Harry. "Hi," she said. "Is that a new jumper?"

Harry glanced down at the 'H' embroidered jumper he had worn since first year and his tattered old jeans that he had worn every day for the past month. "No," he said, a mystified note in his voice.

Parvati giggled. "I guess I never noticed it before," she said. "It sure looks good on you."

Harry rolled his eyes and backed off towards a couple of the boys who were standing alone together far away from any of the girls.

Beaming, Parvati waved to him. "Bye, Harry. See you later." Without taking her eyes off him, she said to Hermione, "He is so _cute_!" and giggled again.

"Harry?" Hermione responded. She had never before thought of him in those terms. To her he was just plain Harry, her best friend. She had never given his looks a second thought. She glanced at him over her shoulder. He caught her eye and smiled. He had a nice smile, she had to admit, and even features. His green eyes were large and expressive behind his round glasses.

When Neville, who was standing beside Harry, smiled and waved at her shyly, she realised she was staring. Blushing, she turned back to Parvati. "I suppose he's all right," she conceded.

"All right? He's positively handsome!" Parvati exclaimed.

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other. For some reason, this conversation was making her very uncomfortable. "I thought you liked Malfoy," she said.

Parvati waved that away. "I didn't _like _him, Hermione. I've never _liked _him. Picking a boyfriend has nothing to do with _liking_."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I thought it did."

"Besides," Parvati went on, "you know what he did after class yesterday? Malfoy held the door for Pansy – of all people! – _and _Millicent. Can you believe that? And he smiled at them just exactly the same way he smiled at me!"

Hermione didn't know what that proved. "Maybe he's just getting some manners finally," she said.

Parvati glanced back at Harry, saying, "Would you be mad, Hermione?"

Hermione's forehead creased with the effort of understanding. "If Malfoy held the door for Pansy and Millicent?"

Parvati laughed. "Oh Hermione," she said. "Sometimes, you are _so_ funny. I'm not talking about _that_. I'm talking about…" She pointed toward Harry, covering her extended finger with her other hand.

Hermione's forehead relaxed. "Would I be mad if Harry held the door for Pansy and Millicent? No. It wouldn't bother me at all."

Parvati laughed harder.

Ignoring her, Hermione continued, "Actually, I'd think it was very nice."

Parvati doubled over. "No, no," she sputtered. "I mean Harry and me! Would you be mad if - "

"Oh," Hermione interrupted. "Now I get it." Parvati was asking her permission to choose Harry for a boyfriend. Everyone made it sound so simple: A person just decided they wanted another person to be their boyfriend or girlfriend, and it happened. Hermione knew better. Harry wasn't interested in having a girlfriend. Hadn't he said as much on the way to class? And even if, by some remote chance, he lost his mind like everyone else had, what difference would it make? Certainly it wouldn't affect their friendship. They wouldn't let it.

"No," she said. "I wouldn't mind. Why should I mind?" She meant that sincerely. Still, her ears burned as if she had just told a big, fat lie. She reached up and pulled her hair down over them.

o-o-o-o-o

**A/N: **Wow. Is this the first time I've written an author's note in the whole bloody story? Ah well, it's just review mooching. start rant So… **GIVE ME REVIEWS!** All in all there are now eleven chapters and… like… 20 reviews! If you read this story, review! It takes about 20 seconds of your time! As soon asyou've finished reading this, review! REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW/end rant -ahem- So, I won't refuse to update or anything but… **do it! ** 3 from… a very disgruntled Alex


	12. An Overnight Change

**Chapter Twelve**

**-**

**An Overnight Change**

"My, how nice everyone looks this morning," Professor McGonagall said.

Today, some of the boys were wearing shirts with collars, and even Pansy was wearing a dress.

Hermione slid down in her chair. She was the only girl in jeans.

Professor McGonagall smiled at Ginny. "I think you've started a trend," she said.

That's for sure, Hermione thought. And clothes were only a small part of it.

Parvati spent the morning with her head in her hands staring at Harry's profile. Hermione could see how uncomfortable it made him. He squirmed in his seat, shot Parvati exasperated looks, covered the side of his face with an open hand, and finally turned the back of his head to her. Once, Professor McGonagall scolded him for fidgeting, which made everyone, except Harry and Hermione, laugh.

The entire class was unusually fidgety all morning. They were up and down like jack-in-the-boxes, offering to collect papers, hand them out, refill their ink – anything to allow them to pass by one another's desks where they dropped notes or exchanged playful pokes or grinned at one another in the same sappy way.

At first, both boys and girls would glance at Ginny to check her reaction to the proceedings, but when she paid no attention, they seemed to forget all about her.

Hermione's stern, disapproving face kept anybody from bothering her. Nevile did approach her desk once with what looked like a note. He hesitated beside her briefly, his face growing redder, and then moved on. By lunchtime, only Hermione and Ginny seemed exempt from the madness that had gripped the third years.

When it was time for lunch, Professor McGonagall said, "I have never seen this class so restless. I strongly suggest you avoid sugar at lunch." She believed that sugar was at the root of the world's problems. Sugar and jeans.

The class exploded out of the room despite Professor McGonagall's warning to be quiet in the halls. Unnoticed, Hermione slipped out of the classroom holding her books. Ginny came out at her heels.

"Hi," she said. "Do you think we could sit together at the Gryffindor table at lunch?"

"Oh, sure," Hermione said. She tried to imagine how the other girls would take this new development. With Ginny at their table, they wouldn't be able to talk about her.

"I couldn't concentrate at all this morning," Ginny said.

Who could? Hermione thought.

"This class is really different," Ginny went on. "Much more… social or something. In my other class, the boys and girls didn't pay so much attention to each other."

Hermione looked at her in disbelief. While she realised that Ginny hadn't been a third year long enough to realise how complete a change had come over the class, she found it hard to believe that the girl was completely unaware of her part in the transformation. "They weren't always like this," she said, studying Ginny for some indication that she knew more than she was letting on. "Actually, they just got this way."

Ginny blinked innocently. "You mean, like, overnight?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just about."

Ginny's eyes widened. "Gee, Hermione," she said, "it sounds like some kind of horror movie or something where everybody goes to bed one way and gets up another." She laughed nervously at the thought.

Hermione saw enough truth in that comparison to keep her from joining in.

As Hermione and Ginny approached the girls' table, Parvati, Padma and Lavender began moving spots frantically.

Padma patted a space on the bench between her and Parvati. "Sit here, Ginny," she said. It was more like a command than an invitation.

On the other side of the table, Lavender said, "there's more room here."

Smiling at them both, Ginny sat away from them all in a space near Harry. Hermione sat between Harry and Ginny.

Immediately, Malfoy scooted over from the Slytherin table and kneeled next to Ginny.

Leaning close to her, he said, "How's it going?"

Ginny shot Hermione a sidelong glance. Her fearful expression seemed to say: Help!

Hermione smiled back.

Padma spotted the exchange. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"Oh, nothing," Ginny said, "just a little private joke. Right, Hermione?"

"Right," Hermione answered. Glancing around the table, she added, "Just a little _private _joke." She noted with satisfaction that she could almost see the steam rising from the tops of the other girls' heads.

Malfoy got to his feet. Judging by his expression, Hermione knew he thought the joke was on him.

"See you," he said and drifted back to the Slytherin table.

Watching after him sadly, Lavender said, "Now look what you did, Hermione."

"What did I do?" asked Hermione.

"Chased Draco away," Lavender answered.

"He didn't come over to talk to _you_, Lavender," Padma sneered.

Lavender shrugged. "So what? He came over, didn't he?"

Padma looked puzzled.

"If _he _came over, maybe some of the other boys might've come over too," Lavender explained.

"Oh. Right," Padma said. Then she gave Hermione a dirty look.

Egged on by the other boys, Nevile ambled over holding two bottles of Zonko's Shrinking Powder. "Put your hands on the table," he told Ginny.

Ginny glanced up at him, her eyes wide. "Why?"

"I want to show you something," Nevile said.

Ginny hesitated.

"Don't do it, Ginny," Padma said.

That seemed to be all Ginny needed. "Okay," she said.

"Palms down," Nevile said.

Ginny followed instructions. "Now what?"

"This." Nevile placed a bottle of shrinking powder on the back of each of her hands. "Okay. Now what you do it try to move the cartons off your hands without spilling any milk."

Everyone held their breath as Ginny surveyed the situation.

She smiled. "You mean like this?" She leaned forward and removed a carton with her teeth. With the freed hand, she took the carton from her mouth and handed it to Nevile. Then she removed the second container and gave that to him.

The girls clapped.

The boys cheered.

Nevile's face melted downward. His eyes still on Ginny, he reached toward the table. He set one bottle close to the edge – too close! It rocked. He grabbed for it, and crushed the bottle in his hand, getting shrinking powder all over him. The other smashed on the ground, spilling it on the ground.

Everyone laughed.

Except Ginny. She popped up out of her chair to help Nevile mop himself off. She helped him up and took him to the infirmary as he rapidly began to shrink.

Hermione caught Harry's eye. The look of admiration in it was unmistakable.


	13. Passing Notes

**Chapter Thirteen**

**-**

**Passing Notes**

A few days later, Parvati dropped a folded piece of paper on Hermione's desk on the way to the bathroom. On the outside it said: _Don't show this to anyone! _Hermione made sure she wasn't in Professor Snape's line of sight before she opened the note.

_Roses are red_

_Vielets are blue._

_It makes me happy_

_Just looking at you. _

A heart shaped line of circles and x's framed the verse. At the bottom of the page it read: _Don't show this to anyone under pain of death! _Beneath those words was a crude drawing of a skull and crossbones.

Hermione glanced up. Parvati had left the classroom. She re-read the note. _Vielets_? she repeated to herself. She studied the handwriting. If the words had been written in cursive, she might have been able to identify the author, but they had been printed – something no one in the class had done since primary school. She ripped a piece of paper from her spiral notebook and wrote _Who sent you this? _with her quill. She placed it at the edge of her desk facing toward the aisle so that Parvati would see it on her way back to her place. Now, she would put the verse on top of her own note where Parvati could just slip it off her desk.

Parvati's note was gone!

Hermione lifted her notebook to look underneath. Not there. She shook the book thinking the note might be inside. It wasn't. Maybe she had accidentally knocked it to the floor when she got out the piece of paper. She looked to her left. No note. Down to her right. Nothing.

Parvati had come back from the girl's room.

Hermione swivelled to look at the desk behind her. Ron gave her a poke. She raised herself on her elbows to look over Lavender Brown's shoulder.

Professor Snape's eyes shot up. "Hermione Granger?" he said.

Unhooking the hair from behind her right ear, Hermione popped out of her seat. "Yes, Professor Snape?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, Professor Snape." She sat down.

When Professor Snape returned his attention to correcting papers, Harry, who was sitting sideways in his chair, leaned across the aisle. "This what you're looking for?" he whispered and slid Parvati's folded note across her desk.

Parvati started down the aisle. She paused beside Hermione's desk, read her friend's written question, rolled her eyes toward Harry and shrugged. She thought Harry might have sent her the verse, but she wasn't certain. She slipped the folded note off the desk into her cupped palm.

At that exact moment, Professor Snape glanced up again. "What _is _going on here?" he asked, his eyes focused on Hermione.

Hermione bounced out of her chair so quickly she knocked her spiral notebook to the floor and Parvati into Harry's lap.

The class roared.

Professor Snape gave them a narrow eyed warning look. Then she repeated her question.

As Parvati struggled to her feet, Hermione searched her mind for something to say. Her instinct was to tell the truth, but she couldn't do that. If she did, Professor Snape would ask to see Parvati's note, and he would read it to the entire class. Parvati would never speak to her again. She opened her mouth, hoping there were words in it.

"I was just borrowing some paper," Parvati piped up. She reached around Hermione and snatched the spiral sheet from her desk, holding it up as proof.

Professor Snape squinted at the paper. Even from that distance he could see the red writing. Now he would ask to see the paper. Then he would ask what Hermione's scribbled question meant and Parvati would have to show him the verse.

Hermione held her breath waiting.

Finally, Professor Snape said, "If I were you, Miss Patil, I would borrow a_ clean_ sheet."

Everything was out of focus for the remainder of the afternoon – except Parvati's note. It kept popping into Hermione's head. She doubted that Harry had written it. It wasn't like him not to sign something he had written. He took great pride in his signature. He couldn't have a crush on Parvati. If he did, he wouldn't act so uncomfortable with her attentions. Parvati's wishful thinking, that's all it was.

Hermione glanced across the aisle. When Harry responded, as he always did, with a smile, she would know she was right.

His head on his fists and his eyes downcast, he was thinking of what to write for his Potions essay. He did not look up.

Hermione cleared her throat.

Still, Harry ignored her.

She stared holes in him. He never moved.

He _had _written that stupid note! No wonder he wouldn't look at her: He was too embarrassed. She turned her back on him.

"Psst, Hermione," he hissed.

She looked over her shoulder.

He pointed to his empty piece of paper and turned his thumbs down.

He wasn't even thinking about Parvati! He hadn't written that note. He couldn't hav written that note.

She smiled. She wouldn't even mention it to him. She'd been ridiculous to imagine – even for a moment – that Harry was the author of such a stupid verse.

"Alright, class dismissed," said Professor Snape, closing his folder with a bang. People began to pack up.

She leaned across the aisle. "Harry, how do you spell _violets_?"

"V-i-e-l-e-t-s," he said without hesitation.

Hermione catapulted from her chair. "How could you _do _such a thing?" she snapped.

Harry shrunk in his seat. "E-i?"

Hermione stomped out of the room. Someone called out her name, but she kept moving toward the girls' room where she thought she'd be left alone.

Once inside, she stared at her image in the mirror. She saw red: red ears, red face, red eyes.

This is ridiculous, she told herself. So what if Harry had written Parvati that stupid verse. It didn't mean they couldn't be friends. The important question was _why _had he written it? Did he really like Parvati? Or… had he merely caved in to the pressures in the class? If so, he wasn't worth having as a friend!

The door flew open and the girls burst in, all talking at once. The words swirled around Hermione like broken branches in rushing water.

"Mine is - "

" – all the same!"

"Who wrote - !"

Hermione's head hurt with the effort of trying to grab onto something solid.

Finally, Pansy's voice rose above the others.

"Mine is the original," she said, brandishing a piece of paper. "You all got copies."

"How can you tell?" Parvati asked. "They all look exactly alike."

Everyone held sheets of paper against Pansy's sheet.

"They wouldn't be _exactly _alike unless he used an original to make copies," she said, a patronizing edge to her voice. "I got the original."

In the clamor that followed Pansy's conclusion, the storm in Hermione's mind quieted. She glanced from one to the other: Pansy, Millicent, Padma, Lavender, Parvati. Harry had sent each of them the same note!

Feeling numb, she started out of the room.

"Hermione, wait!" Parvati called. "We're all going to hang out in the Entrance Hall with the boys after dinner. Meet us there!"

At the door, Hermione froze. She and Parvati had plans to study in the library after dinner. Once again, Parvati had forgotten. "Have a good time," she said and left the room.

She passed by Nevile on the way out of the classroom.

"Hi, Hermione," he said, smiling broadly.

She didn't answer.

She hurried along the corridor, past the dungeons, up the stairs, through the hall. Suddenly, she stopped.

Ahead, Harry was walking to dinner. With Ginny Weasley!


	14. HG NL

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, but I don't have internet access at home so I couldn't post this chapter until now. Hope you enjoy! REVIEW!**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**-**

**H.G + N.L**

Hermione ran into Harry later that day. Instantly, Hermione's breathing became ragged. How could she talk to Harry now? She was too upset. She took several deep breaths before speaking. "Hi," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I had to talk to you," Harry went on. "I have an idea for my Charms essay."

His calm, easy manner infuriated Hermione. How could he act as if nothing had happened?

"What d'ya think about calming spells?"

"Calming spells?"

"I figured I'd do a study on how it affects people. Like if they do the calming spell before a test they get a better grade? Or when they're mad – stuff like that. See if it really calms a person." He paused. "What d'ya think?"

Despite her anger, Hermione got caught up in the idea. "It sounds great!" she said. "And nobody else'll do it. How'd you ever think of it?"

"I was talking to Ginny after class, and I showed her the spell, and she said, 'That'd be great for the project.'"

"Ginny gave you the idea?" Hermione couldn't keep the surprise from her voice.

"Like I said, she's pretty smart. And I take back what I said about her not being able to spell. She even taught me how to spell _violets_."

Anger welled up inside Hermione. "Too bad you didn't know how to spell it before you wrote all those notes," she said, and walked away in a huff.

o-o-o-o-o

Harry wasn't waiting for her in the common room before class in the morning. Hermione waited a while hoping he'd show up. She needed to talk to him. She felt terrible about yesterday. Whenever they'd had a disagreement in the past – a rare occurrence – they had talked it out. This time was different. She should have come right out and asked him what was going on. She would do that this morning if he ever showed up. Maybe he had decided to skip class. She had been tempted to do that herself. And she had never missed class before. _Ever_.

Finally, she swung by the boy's dormitories – he wasn't there either.

She took her time walking to class. It wouldn't have mattered to her if she were late. It wouldn't matter if she got there at all. That's what all the boy-girl nonsense was doing to her.

Ginny came out of the girl's bathrooms and joined Hermione in walking to class. "Where's Harry?" she asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said. She cast a wary glance toward Ginny. "Why?"

"No reason," Ginny said. "He usually walks with you, that's all."

Except when he walks with you, Hermione thought, but she said, "He's getting as weird as everybody else."

Ginny nodded. "It's all this boy-girl stuff. It always changes everything."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't understand any of this," she said, more to herself than to Ginny.

Standing alone in front of the classroom door, Nevile waved as the girls approached.

Hermione assumed he was waiting for Ginny. Good, she thought. With Ginny occupied with him, she could slip away and find a quiet place to think.

"Hi," Nevile said as the girls approached. Looking directly at Hermione, he said, "Can I – uh – talk to you for a minute?"

Hermione didn't notice. She was too busy scanning the hallway. Harry and Parvati stood talking near the stairs. He must've left early so he could meet her. Maybe he had even walked Parvati to class while Hermione was standing alone in the common room, waiting for him.

She looked away. Third years were scattered all over the corridor – mostly in twos! Pansy and Malfoy leaning against wall; Padma and Ron kneeling next to the door; it looked as if only Lavender stood alone.

Ginny poked her. "Mary?"

Lavender moved to one side. She wasn't alone! Dean Thomas was there, looking up at her adoringly.

The shortest person in the class and the tallest person. It seemed absurd. In spite of herself, Hermione giggled.

"Hermione," Ginny said, "Nevile wants to know if…"

Watching Lavender and Dean, Hermione said, "It's okay. You can talk to him. I don't mind."

"But I - uh - "

Ginny came to his rescue with, "He doesn't want to talk to _me_, Hermione. He wants to talk to _you_."

Hermione's attention snapped back. She looked at Nevile. "Me? You want to talk to _me_?"

Nevile blushed. "I - uh - "

Saying, "See ya," Ginny darted away.

"What about?" Hermione asked Nevile.

Nevile took an audible breath. "I – uh – was – uh – wondering," he said and then stopped to shift from one foot to the other.

"You were wondering what?" Hermione urged him. If he didn't hurry and say whatever it was he had to say, Professor McGonagall would come.

Nevile cleared his throat. "Wouldyougowithme" – he spoke quickly, spitting out the words as if they were all strung together – "toHogsmeadethisweekend?"

Hermione stared at him. Up until a couple of days ago, Nevile had never seemed nervous about talking to her. And now all of a sudden – what _was _he talking about? Where could he possibly want her to go? It must have something to do with school, she thought. "Do you need help with homework or something?"

He ran his tongue along his thin lips. "For some candy or an ice cream," he managed at last.

Hermione cocked her head to one side. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I just thought," he shrugged again, "it'd be… fun. You and me." He edged away. "But you're probably busy this weekend."

As he spoke, realization dropped inside her word by word. He was asking her for a date! Panicked, she shrieked, "Are you asking me for a _date_!"

Nevile's face went white. He turned on his heel and dashed off.

o-o-o-o-o

Although she tried all morning, Hermione could not keep her mind off Nevile Longbottom. Nor her eyes. They kept sliding in his direction. And every time she looked at him, he cast a grinning sidelong glance at her.

When Professor McGonagall called on her to read a passage, she couldn't find the place. When she went to pass out the test papers, she dropped them all over the floor.

Lavender poked her during Potions.

Startled, Hermione swivelled around.

Lavender held up a notebook sheet on which she had drawn a big heart encircling the initials _H.G + N.L._

"Give me that," Hermione hissed. She grabbed for the paper, but Professor Snape, who had come silently down the aisle, beat her to it.

Hermione slid down in her chair and squeezed her eyes closed. Holding her breath, she waited for her teacher to show that awful, lopsided heart to the entire class.

Slowly, rhythmically, Professor Snape's heavy footsteps sounded, along the floor toward the front of the room.

Hermione opened one eye.

Professor Snape turned to face the class, holding the sheet of paper in both hands as though he were about to read it.

Hermione shut her eye.

"I'd say this entire class has a touch of spring fever," their teacher said, "except it isn't even spring." There was a lilt in the last few words.

Hermione heard a ripping sound. Her eyes flew open. She scooched to the edge of her chair and leaned out slightly into the aisle. Professor Snape was tearing the paper to shreds and dropping it into the rubbish bin.

**A/N: I think that was a pretty long chapter. Does it make up for the weekend of no updates::looks hopeful: I'll try to be supersupersuper good with updates for the rest of this week, cause there won't be any updates for… let's see… _four weeks_. I have holidays for the first three weeks and then school camp. I know, I know, it sucks. Well, until next time…**


	15. Revelations and the Showdown

**Chapter Fifteen**

**-**

**Revelations and the Showdown**

When the class was dismissed, Harry leaned toward Hermione. "So," he said. "You and Nevile?"

Hermione could feel herself blushing. "Capital _n_, capital _o_," she said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't know," he said. "It looks… serious."

Hermione stood up. "Yeah, well, things aren't always the was they look, Harry."

A lopsided grin spread across his face. "You got that right," he said.

She felt he was trying to tell her something that had nothing to do with Nevile Longbottom. "What's _that _supposed to mean?" she asked.

He just kept grinning at her.

She turned on her heel and left the room.

In the Great Hall, the girls were poring over the makeup ads in a teen girl magazine.

When Hermione sat down, Padma said, "I saw Hermione flirting with Nevile," and Pansy added from the table opposite, "We _all _saw Hermione flirting with Nevile."

"I was not flirting with Nevile," Hermione snapped. She turned to Parvati. "Was I flirting with Nevile?"

Parvati wasn't paying attention. She was drawing tiny hearts on her fingernails with a red marker. In each, she inserted a different boy's initials.

"I was not flirting with Nevile," Hermione repeated emphatically.

Nevile passed by the table sideways. "Hi, Hermione," he said, grinning shyly.

"Hi," said Hermione unenthusiastically, a scowl on her face.

"Hermione likes Nevile," Lavender said, and everyone at the table took up the chant.

"Hermione Longbottom," Parvati said dreamily. After a pause, she added, "It doesn't sound right."

Hermione pushed herself away from the table. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said.

"That's because you haven't eaten," said Lavender.

"Love does that to a person," Millicent put in, leaning over towards the Gryffindor table. "They lose their appetite."

Padma's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"This is all so stupid," Hermione said.

Pansy cackled. "If you think it's so _stupid_, Hermione, then why are you flirting with Nevile?" She looked around the table smugly.

"I already told you," Hermione protested. "I am not flirting with Nevile Longbottom."

"Why not?" Lavender asked. "What's wrong with him?"

Hermione groaned. "Nothing's _wrong _with him."

"Do you like somebody else better?" Lavender persisted.

"Harry," Parvati answered for her. "Hermione likes Harry best."

"I do not like Harry!" Hermione shouted.

Everybody stared at her incredulously.

Hermione pulled her hair over her ears. "I mean I _like _Harry – of course I like Harry – but I don't like him the way you mean."

"He likes _you_," Parvati told her. "He told me he did. That's why he wouldn't be my boyfriend."

A rush of emotion made Hermione's heart pound. She didn't want Harry as a boyfriend. It would spoil everything. And all this talk about it was unsettling. She shot to her feet. "Harry does not like me!"

No one paid any attention to her vehement denial. Instead, they began to talk among themselves as though she weren't standing right there.

"If Harry's her boyfriend," said Lavender, "then I don't think she should flirt with Nevile."

"Right," Padma agreed. "It isn't fair."

"No one should have _two _boyfriends," Lavender added.

"I don't have _any _boyfriends!" Hermione said, a frustrated edge to her voice. "And I don't want any either!" She whirled around and bumped into Seamus.

He stood near the table, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops. "Hi girls," he said. "You fighting over me?"

"Very funny!" said Padma.

"How'd you like the little verse you got yesterday?" he asked.

There was a stunned silence.

Hermione's stomach tightened. Seamus had written the verse! She should have known. He was a worse speller than Harry.

The girls exchanged glances. Then, as if on cue, they got up and started shouting at him. He put up his arms protectively.

Hermione dashed out of the hall. She had been wrong to assume Harry had written the note. Wrong not to have talked to him about her suspicions. She had to find him.

Outside, she saw Harry in the corridor. Ginny was with him, but Hermione was so intent on seeing Harry, she barely noticed.

"Harry!" she called.

He and Ginny were practising calming spells on each other, and he didn't look up.

Hermione raced toward him. She had to talk to him before class started. Breathless, she ran up beside him. "Harry, I have to talk to you!"

"Can't now," he said. "I'm doing an experiment – seeing how calming spells affect Ginny."

"Hi Hermione," Ginny said, smiling sweetly.

Ignoring her, Hermione said, "Har-_ry_! It's important!"

"So's this," he said and turned toward Ginny. With a twist of his wand, purple cloud sprung from his wand and swirled around Ginny, but she wasn't watching.

She was looking at Hermione, concern in her eyes. "What's wrong, Hermione?" she asked.

"You should know!" Hermione snapped. "It's all your fault!"

Ginny took a step backwards as though she'd been hit. Her stunned expression made Hermione feel awful, but she continued to lash out. "Well, it is," she snarled. "Before you came here, everything was fine. We were all friends and school was fun and now all anybody thinks about is boyfriends and girlfriends and nobody is the same anymore and I hate it!"

"Ginny," Harry said urgently. "Take deep breaths! Relax!"

Ginny's chest heaved.

"That's it!" Harry said. "Breathe! In! Out!"

Hermione had never attacked anyone this was before. It made her feel as though she were growing smaller and smaller and if she uttered another word, she would surely disappear. Yet the sight of Ginny standing there, breathing deeply, and the sound of Harry's enthusiastic prompting made her so angry she couldn't keep herself from saying, "And I hate you, too!"

Ginny inhaled deeply. And stopped breathing. Her mouth was open and her eyes wide. Finally, her gaze unflinching, she let out a long, slow breath.

Hermione turned and stumbled away.

Behind her, Harry said, "It works, Ginny! Calming spells really work!"


	16. Be My Girlfriend?

**Chapter Sixteen**

**-**

**Be My Girlfriend?**

Hermione had knots in her stomach all afternoon. She kept sliding her gaze toward Ginny, wondering how she felt. Ginny didn't seem any different. She paid attention to class work, and answered sweetly when she was called on to recite. She even seemed to read better than she had that first day. There were no indications that she was smarting from the hurt Hermione had inflicted.

Hermione, on the other hand, felt wounded. She wished she could relive those few moments with Ginny. She should never have said any of those things. If it hadn't been for her anger at the other girls and at Harry, she never would have said them. That was no excuse, she realised. What she had done, she had done. She had no one to blame but herself. And an apology would probably be useless. Ginny would never accept it. If she were Ginny, she wouldn't easily forgive and forget.

Harry kept trying to catch her eye, but Hermione avoided his glance. She knew it would be disapproving.

When the classes had finished for the day, Ginny turned to her.

Hermione lowered her eyes and busied herself getting her books together.

"Hermione?" Ginny said.

Hermione's heart pounded. Ginny had probably sat there quietly all afternoon gathering her ammunition. Now she was going to let Hermione have it.

Avoiding Ginny's eyes, Hermione said, "I gotta go," and hurried toward the door.

A smiling Nevile Longbottom appeared out of nowhere.

Hermione brushed past him and dashed down the hall. She ran all the way back to the common room as though something were chasing her.

o-o-o-o-o

At four o'clock when the portrait opened, Hermione was sitting on the couch, her book of obscure spells open before her. She was looking for a spell with a long name and no counter-charm. She'd decided never to leave the common room again.

She glanced behind her.

Harry was there, strolling into the common room.

Maybe if she kept her head down and didn't say anything, he'd think she wasn't there and go away.

She had to talk to him. He was a true friend to come and see her after the way she'd acted. She'd tell him how sorry she was. Maybe he could help her decide what to do about Ginny.

She put her book down and walked over to him.

He straightened up slightly, and smiled subtly.

"Hi," he said. His eyes were wary as though he didn't know what to expect.

"Hi," she responded. "Wanna come and study?"

"Why don't you come outside?"

Hermione looked out the window of Gryffindor tower. The sun's rays angled through the trees, bright with autumn colours. A lone sparrow perched on a turret. A small mouse sat on its haunches at the base of a tree, nibbling a scrap.

"Okay," she agreed and reached for her cloak.

o-o-o-o-o

She and Harry immediately fell into step as they ambled through the grounds.

"Where're we going?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "Nowhere particular."

That was fine with Hermione. They often just took off, walking side by side with no destination in mind. Sometimes, like today, they were quiet. Other times, they were so full of talk they hardly took notice of their surroundings. Either way, being two friends together was the important part.

Hermione was the first to speak. "I suppose you and Ginny talked about what happened," she said.

He looked at her briefly, his eyes coolly appraising. "She was really upset about it – about you being mad at her."

She's the one that should be mad, Hermione thought.

"The calming spell helped, though – it really works. My essay's going to be great. And I told her not to worry." He grinned. "That you were mad at everybody." The grin faded. "Why're you mad at her?"

"I'm not," Hermione said quickly. "I _was_. Sort of," she amended. "I mean, I _thought _I was, but I wasn't."

Harry chuckled. "That's about as clear as mud."

Hermione sighed deeply before she launched into the entire story. As she spoke, she felt better, less sad, less guilty, and she began to understand why she had lashed out at Ginny.

"I guess it's me I'm really mad at," she concluded, "because I don't know what's happening anymore, and I keep thinking if Ginny hadn't come along…" Her voice trailed off.

"It's not Ginny," Harry assured her.

"I know that." On one level she did know and understand that Ginny was not responsible for the change in the third year; on another, she wasn't so sure. "I mean, I guess I know that. You're saying it would have happened anyway."

"Sooner or later," he said.

"Without Ginny, it would have been later."

Harry ran his hand along a mulberry bush branch from base to tip, stripping it of leaves.

Hermione cringed. Every time she attempted that, she was stuck by a thorn.

"It might have been Ginny in the beginning," he said as he showered the air with the tiny green leaves. "Everybody wanted to be her friend. It made them seem more popular or something, but now…" he shrugged.

"Now everyone's gone crazy," Hermione completed his thought.

"I think it's kinda… good – what's happening."

"What's good about it?" Hermione pressed. "Look what it's already done to us."

He shot her an inquiring glance.

"About the notes," she explained. "I suspected you right away. Any other time, I would've just come out and asked, but I didn't. And it's because I'm all confused about everything."

Harry thought about that for a long time. Finally he took a deep breath. "I don't know about that – why you didn't come out and ask me. You should have."

"I know," Hermione agreed, "that's what I said. When I found out Seamus had written that stupid verse! Why'd he write it anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "He's trying to be as popular as Malfoy."

Hermione giggled. "Who say's Malfoy's popular?"

"Malfoy," Harry said.

"This whole thing is getting out of hand," Hermione said.

Harry waved that away. "You're taking it all too seriously, Hermione."

"I'm not the one taking it seriously," she objected. "It's everybody else!"

"It's nothing to get uptight about," Harry persisted. "Things change. If you like somebody - "

"Parvati says none of it has anything to do with whether you like a person or not," she interrupted. "She doesn't like Malfoy and just because he was nice to her – opened the door for her or some stupid thing – she thought she was" – she held her hands over her heart and rolled her eyes skyward – "in love."

"For a minute or two," Harry joked. "Besides, Malfoy doesn't like Parvati."

"I know that. That's the whole point. They don't like each other!"

"We like each other," Harry said, giving her a sidelong glance.

"That's because we're friends," Hermione said, following her own train of thought. "Before everybody understood that, but now, I don't know. Parvati is spreading it all over that you don't just like me, but that you… _like _me." She laughed. "I know you said that – _if _you said that - " She squinted at him. "Did you say that?" When he responded with a noncommittal murmur, she continued, "I know it was to keep Parvati from bothering you, but I didn't like it, Harry. I didn't like it at all."

"Why? You afraid Nevile Longbottom'll find out?" he asked.

"Nevile!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's never paid so much attention to me before and now he's everywhere! It's making me very nervous."

"Well, if you don't like him, why not me?"

Saying, "Har-­_ry_," Hermione swatted at him with an open hand. "Be serious."

"I am," he said, pausing to look at her. "It might be a good idea – you and me." There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "At least it'd keep Nevile Longbottom from following you all over."

Hermione made a face.

"Be my girlfriend, and he'll leave you alone." He studied her for a reaction before adding, "Well? What do you think?"

**A/N: Can you guess what I'm about to say? That's right… REVIEW! After all, I _did _update twice yesterday. Plot suggestions welcome. **


	17. Go With It

**Chapter Seventeen**

**-**

**Go With It**

Indicating the Honeydukes storefront, Harry said, "Just what the doctor ordered." He started for the door.

Hermione hesitated. "I didn't bring any money."

"I'll loan you some," Harry offered.

"I don't like borrowing."

"So I'll treat."

Still, Hermione hung back. "Everyone's probably in there," she said. She was in no mood to be caught in the flirting frenzy that was undoubtedly in progress just behind the door.

Harry peered inside. "The coast is clear," he assured her as he opened the door to let her enter.

She stepped past him with apprehension. It had been just over two weeks since she'd been there, but it seemed much longer. So much else had changed, she expected this place, too, would be different. She was relieved to find her fears unfounded. Everything from the wineberry-and-rose quartz colour scheme to the casual warmth of the place was just as it had always been.

"I'll have three Pumpkin Pasties and a Licorice Wand, please," she told the girl behind the counter.

"You always have that," Harry said. "Why don't you try something different?"

"I like it," she explained simply. Today, especially, with everything else in turmoil, she needed the reassurance of being able to do things as she had always done them.

"I'll have Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," said Harry.

Hermione made a face. She couldn't imagine a worse choice. The last time she had tried one, she landed a snot flavoured bean. "Just what the doctor ordered," she joked.

They ambled back toward the train station, enjoying the sweetness of their lilies and the comfort of each other's company. The small, cosy homes along the way glowed in the day's last golden sunrays, and the maple trees dabbed the tidy, fading lawns with dropped spots of riotous colour.

Hermione felt fortunate to live in such a beautiful place and to have Harry for her best friend.

"I've been thinking," she said. "What if you hadn't come to Hogwarts? We wouldn't even know each other. Isn't that an awful thought?"

"Don't think it," Harry replied.

She sighed. Without their classmates there jabbering boy-girl talk, she could almost make herself believe that nothing had changed. She cocked her head to look at him. "I'm so glad we didn't run into any of the other kids."

Harry met her eyes. He smiled. "Me, too," he said.

o-o-o-o-o

When Hermione got back, the first thing she had to do was find Ginny to apologize. It would be difficult and she might not forgive herm but she had to do it just the same.

Luckily, Ginny was sitting in the common room just as Hermione walked in. Her stomach tightened as Ginny turned and looked at her. Each heartbeat seemed to reverberate through her, jangling her nerves. When Ginny spoke, Hermione was as breathless as she would have been if she'd just run a mile.

"Hi, Ginny." She paused to take a couple of deep breaths.

"Hermione! Hi!" Ginny sounded happy to see her. "I was just going to go and find you."

"You were?"

"I'll bet that's why you found me – cause you _knew_."

There she goes again, Hermione thought, assuming I know things I couldn't possibly know. "I didn't know," she said. "How would I know?"

"Your _feelings_," Ginny said, surprise in her voice.

"Oh, I can't read minds," Hermione said.

"I'll bet you could if you tried," Ginny responded.

"Why were you coming to find me?" Hermione asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"Because you're mad at me and I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Hermione couldn't believe what she heard. It was as if someone had switched scripts and Ginny was reading the wrong lines. "You didn't do anything, Ginny," she said. "I'm the one. I was awful to you. I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me."

Ginny laughed. "That'd be pretty stupid. We're friends, aren't we? Besides, I don't believe in staying mad at anybody. It wears a person out."

Hermione agreed with that. She had been angry with nearly everyone in the third year. It hadn't done her a bit of good. Certainly, she couldn't change things back to the way they were. And being upset about it had interfered with her schoolwork and her usual sense of well being.

What she had to do was just go with it. Ginny knew that, and she hadn't even had a calming spell.

o-o-o-o-o

Hermione was so excited about her decision that she didn't notice the chill in the air the next morning.

"Harry, I thought about what you said the other day," she told her friend when they met, "and I think you're right."

His hands buried in his cloak pockets, Harry looked at her warily. "About what?"

"I think you should be my boyfriend."

Harry's expression transformed to one of delighted surprise. "Well, all right!" he said.

"We'll only be pretending, but - "

Harry nodded. "Pretending. Right."

" – no one else'll know that," Hermione concluded. "I think it'll work just like you said, Harry. If you're my boyfriend, then Nevile Longbottom will leave me alone. The girls will stop pestering you, too. Besides that, we'll fit in better."

"Right," Harry said.

Hermione smiled triumphantly. "Of course we don't have to be as sappy as everyone else – drawing hearts all over everything like they do – but I suppose we do have to… act a little different."

Harry grinned at her. "Sometimes you sound just like Aunt Petunia," he said.

Hermione gave him an impatient swat. "This is serious, Harry," she admonished him. "We have to get it all worked out before we get to class. We have to decide how you should act, because boyfriends don't act like ordinary friends."

"Neither do girlfriends," Harry put in.

"That's the problem," Hermione said, looking to him for a solution.

He shrugged. "So, you tell me, what should we do?"

"I guess we should talk to one another a lot," Hermione offered.

"And I should walk you to class," Harry suggested.

"And smile a lot – we should smile when we see one another."

"And when we think of each other – we should smile then, too."

"And tell one another things we've never told anybody."

After a brief pause, they turned to look at one another. "We do all those things now," they said simultaneously.

"So how's anybody gonna know things've changed?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "I guess we'll just have to… tell them."

**A/N: That was a bit shorter than usual, but it wasn't too bad. Did that answer everybody's questions about the plot? I hope so, but if not, I'll update tomorrow. Hopefully, twice. That's right, next it'll be a… dun dun duuun… DOUBLE UPDATE! **


	18. Knew It All Along

**Chapter Eighteen**

**-**

**Knew It All Along**

Harry and Hermione walked the corridor in silence. Hermione thought about their new status. This boyfriend/girlfriend business might not be so bad after all. If their behaviour didn't alter, their friendship would remain intact. And the pretense, a shared secret, might even bring them closer together.

"You know, Harry, this might even be fun," Hermione said.

Harry wasn't listening. He was surveying the hall. "Nevile's waiting for you again," he told her.

Nevile waved and smiled.

"Do something, Harry," Hermione instructed as she and Harry approached the door.

He grabbed her hand. "Smile at me," he said.

She yanked her hand from his. Professor Snape would have a fit if she saw them holding hands. Besides, his hand was cold. "I don't feel like smiling."

Hermione was face to face with Nevile. "Oh, hi, Nevile," she said. "I – we didn't see you standing there."

Nevile's grin widened. "Hi, Hermione," he said.

Harry slid in between them. "So I'll see you after class, Hermione?"

Hermione didn't know what he was talking about. She had made plans with Ginny for after class. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he rolled his eyes toward Nevile. "Oh!" she said, remembering she had a role to play. "After school." She smiled. "Right."

Harry edged away. "I can't wait," he said.

Hermione thought that sounded sappy, but she went along with it. "Me, neither."

Grinning and waving his fingers at her, Harry back stepped toward a small group of the boys.

He didn't even look like himself! It was that silly smirk. Hermione wanted to dash after him and wipe it off his face. Instead, she smiled and waved to him. When her face started to hurt, she turned to Nevile.

His own smile had slid off centre. He seemed to be frozen.

They stood there silently, facing one another. Nevile's face changed colour slowly. Judging by the creeping heat she felt, Hermione knew hers was turning red, too.

She felt she should say something to Nevile – tell him that she and Harry were a couple, but she couldn't find the words.

Finally, Nevile said, "You and Harry?"

Averting her eyes, she nodded.

The smile slid off his face entirely. His shoulders drooped. "Oh," he said.

He looked so dejected. Hermione wanted to say something funny to cheer him up, but she couldn't think of a single word, funny or otherwise.

Parvati came galloping to the rescue. "Hi, Nevile," she said, "is that a new jacket?"

Nevile glanced down at his dark green windbreaker. He looked at Parvati, at Hermione, the jacket. Then, he trotted off.

"He is so _cute_," Parvati said.

"Maybe you could be his girlfriend," Hermione suggested. "Maybe we could all do something together sometime, you and Nevile and… Harry and me." It was all she could do to keep from blurting out, "We're pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend."

Parvati gaped at her. "You and _Harry_!"

Hermione shrugged as if to say, "You know how it is."

Parvati danced in a circle. "I knew it! I knew it all along!"

o-o-o-o-o

Parvati made it her business to tell everyone about Harry and Hermione. Hermione was relieved that she didn't have to do it herself. Telling Nevile and Parvati had been much more difficult than she had anticipated. Lying was against her nature, and even though she told herself it was only a role-playing game, she was uncomfortable with it. She worried that someone would detect the ruse, but no one did. They seemed to think the pairing of her and Harry was inevitable.

Pansy summarized the class' attitude when she said, "So what else is new?"

Hermione had mixed emotions about the reaction. She was relieved that her classmates accepted the sham without question, making explanations unnecessary. At the same time, she resented their assuming she was so predictable that they knew what she was going to do before she herself knew.

Harry didn't seem to be having similar problems. He accepted his role wholeheartedly. A devoted look on his face, he smiled at Hermione all morning. When she entered the room, he smiled. When she left it, he smiled. When she stood to recite, he smiled. When she sat down, he smiled. He smiled when she gave a correct answer and when she was wrong.

It made her so self conscious that her ears burned. She kept covering them but, still, she could feel them poking, flame red, through her fine brown hair. She scowled at Harry a couple of times and mouthed, "Stop it!" but he kept right on smiling.

By lunchtime, she was ready to explode, and when Harry suggested they eat together, she stormed off without responding.

"I can't wait til it snows," she said as she joined the other girls at the table.

Everyone focused on her, waiting for an explanation.

Past experience had taught her that boys could never resist packing snow into smooth icy balls and pitching them at the girls. Hermione had always dreaded winter for that reason. Now, she'd prefer a direct his with a snowball to the boy's sappy smiles. "The boys will start throwing snowballs at us," she explained, "and things will be back to normal."

The girls exchanged puzzled glances. Then Parvati said, "How do you hold hands in the winter?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to look puzzled.

"I was wondering that too," Padma said. "This morning it was so cold. I was wishing I had my mittens and - "

"You shouldn't hold hands when you're wearing _mittens_," Lavender said.

"Why not?" asked Padma.

"Because it wouldn't be like holding hands then; it'd be like holding… mittens."

"What about gloves?" asked Parvati.

Lavender rolled her eyes. "It's the same _thing_, Parvati."

"But if it's cold, and you take off your mittens or gloves or whatever," Padma said, "your hands could… freeze!"

Parvati's eyes went dreamy. "His hand and your hand – frozen together. That is so _romantic_!"

Hermione began to get up. This conversation was ridiculous!

"Where are you going after class?" Lavender asked her.

"I'm going to study with Ginny in the library," Hermione said.

"Does Harry want to do that?" Padma wanted to know.

"What's Harry got to do with it?" asked Hermione.

The girls looked appalled. They all started talking at one.

"You mean he's not going with you?"

"Did you ask him if it was okay?"

"I don't have to ask his permission," Hermione snapped.

"Ernie would be really jealous if I went somewhere without asking him first," Lavender said.

"Ernie Macmillan?" Hermione repeated. "I thought Dean was your boyfriend."

"That didn't work out," Pansy put in, leaning across from the Slytherin table.

"Everybody thought he was my little brother," Lavender added.

"So who is Dean's girlfriend then?"

"Hannah Abbott, of course."

"Where have you been, Hermione?" Padma asked.

As she sat there listening to the girls talk, Hermione asked herself the same question. Apparently, without her having been aware of it, things in the third year world had changed once again. This boy-girl business had begun as a kind of game. Everybody had flirted with everybody. The couples that had formed were temporary and changed rapidly. Now, the pairing off was becoming more serious and permanent.

Hermione wasn't sure how she and Harry fit into all this. If pretending to be a couple meant they couldn't have friends, too, then she didn't want any part of it. On the other hand, who would she be friends with if everyone else was involved in an exclusive relationship?


	19. Clingy

**A/N: Well, this is it. No more updates for another four weeks. I know, it sucks, but it can't be helped. So… enjoy the chapter while you can. Now, on with the story!**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**-**

**Clingy**

When the final class for the day ended, Ginny said, "I'll be right back, Hermione."

Hermione looked up from her assignment notebook. "I'll meet you in the hall."

Harry leaned across the aisle. "So what do you want to do today?"

Hermione's whole body tensed. "I'm going to library to study with Ginny," she told him. Judging by the girls' disapproving conversation at lunch, she expected him to start an argument with her.

Shrugging, Harry got to his feet. "Okay, that's cool," he said and turned to leave the room.

Hermione relaxed. Harry was still Harry. He hadn't turned into some kind of green eyed monster like the other boys in the class. He had merely taken his role playing too seriously. She'd have to talk to him about that.

She found Ginny outside the classroom. Harry was there, too.

"What're you doing this afternoon, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Going to the library to study with Ginny," he answered without missing a beat.

Hermione shot Ginny an inquiring look.

Ginny smiled. "I didn't think you'd mind," she said.

Hermione glowered at Harry. "No," she said. "I don't mind. Why on earth should I mind?"

They walked three abreast toward the Hogwarts library. Harry kept listing to the right toward Hermione, who would then careen into Ginny.

Ginny laughed. "Two's company and three's a crowd."

When they finally arrived, the three began to trudge up the stairs to the second floor of the library. To Hermione, it seemed that they had been walking for hours.

Things were no better in the library. Anywhere that Hermione went, Harry was sure to go. He followed her over to the shelves when she went to find a particular book, stood by her when she went up to the counter to borrow it, and sat close beside her at the study table while she was writing her Charms essay.

"Don't sit so close," she told him. "You might copy me."

"I won't look," he assured her.

When a group of girls from the class below her turned up to greet Ginny, Hermione made an excuse to leave. "But you can stay, Harry," she said.

"That's okay," Harry responded. "I'll walk you back to the common room.

Outside the library, Harry took Hermione's hand.

She pulled it away. "You don't have to do that, Harry," she said. "No one's around. You can stop acting."

"A good actor lives his part," he said. "Onstage and off."

Hermione made a face.

"You're too tense," he told her. "Maybe I should use a calming spell on you." He whipped out his wand and began waving it around without a care in the world. He grinned at her.

He looked so silly Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

Harry caught up with her at dinner that evening. "So what's new?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "Nothing," she said. "How could anything be new? I just saw you two hours ago."

"So what should we talk about?" he asked.

"I don't know, Harry. What did you want me to talk about?"

He bit his lip. "I guess I don't know, either."

o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, instead of waiting for her in the common room, Harry turned up outside the girl's dorms while she was getting ready."

"Harry's waiting for you outside," Parvati announced simply, but Hermione heard her unspoken question: "What's going on?"

Sighing, Hermione said, "I think he's practising to be a bodyguard."

Outside, Harry said, "I've decided I'll pick you up here every day."

"You don't have to do that, Harry," Hermione objected. "It's out of your way."

"I don't mind," he said.

Hermione did mind. She didn't want him waiting outside her door. It would make her nervous. And what if he were late? Was she supposed to wait for him? That would make her more nervous. She liked the casual way they met now. But she didn't say so. She was afraid she'd hurt his feelings.

But the following week when he suggested they do their homework together every night after supper, she exploded.

"Har-_ry_! This is getting ridiculous. We see each other so much now we don't even have anything to talk about anymore."

"You don't like being my girlfriend, is that what you're saying, Hermione?" he asked.

"We're _supposed _to be pretending, Harry!" she reminded him.

He smiled sheepishly. "Can I help it if I'm so good at it?"

She stamped her feet in frustration.

"You're turning red," he said. "Relax. Breathe deeply. Concentrate."

There was absolutely no talking to him.

Or to anyone else.

o-o-o-o-o

No one seemed to be doing much talking. Lavender was angry because Parvati asked Ernie if he was wearing a new jacket. Hannah Abbott was mad at Padma for teasing Dean about his height. Padma was miffed with Ron because he kept spilling things. Malfoy wasn't speaking to Pansy because she went shopping with Millicent without asking his permission. So many people were not speaking to so many other people, Hermione couldn't keep track.

The class became so quiet that even Professor McGonagall was mystified. "What had happened to this class?" she asked. "Where's all that effervescence?"

Only Ginny seemed her bubbly self.

There was much speculation about Ginny's aloofness from the third year mania. Pandy and some of the other girls decided she must have a boyfriend – probably someone from her old class.

At first, Hermione was reluctant to accept that explanation, but she decided, finally, that the girls were probably right. Ginny did have a boyfriend. That explained her indifference to the boy's attentions and her apparent knowledge of boy-girl relationships. It also explained why Ginny was so happy all the time; her boyfriend didn't see her often so he couldn't bother her.

Hermione decided, finally, that she had to talk to Ginny. Alone. But how was she going to get away from Harry long enough to do that?

She was trying to think of a solution to that problem on day when Professor McGonagall said, "We haven't discussed your projects in a long time."

No one knew what she was talking about.

Professor McGonagall laughed. "I guess it's been even longer than I thought!"

**A/N: Alright, so I guess it's bye bye for four weeks. So… bye. And review! And trust me, by the end of the four weeks I'll have the final chapters lined up to upload. Hang in there, readers! Bye for now… Alex **


	20. Jumping To Conclusions

**Chapter Twenty**

**-**

**Jumping To Conclusions**

Professor McGonagall gave them a few minutes to find their project lists and then she took the roll. Several people were doing Newt Scamander. Professor McGonagall divided them into groups. She put Parvati and Lavender together to study him. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle joined forces to find out about Salazar Slytherin. A couple of the others, including Neville, were flipping through the textbook about Helga Hufflepuff.

Finally, Professor McGonagall called on Hermione.

"I still don't have an idea, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said as she untucked her hair from behind her right ear.

Ginny popped to her feet. "Professor McGonagall, could Hermione and I work together?" she asked.

"What's your idea, Miss Weasley?" the teacher asked.

Hermione cringed. She had a feeling that Ginny didn't have an idea either. She untucked the hair from behind her left ear.

"I don't exactly have one," Ginny said. "But if Hermione and I could work together…" her voice trailed off.

Professor McGonagall looked amused. "Well, I suppose two heads _are _better than one," she said thoughtfully.

"Not when there's nothing in either of them," Malfoy mumbled.

"Ron's told me all about your adventures, Hermione," said Ginny quietly as she twirled a lock of her red hair around her finger.

But suddenly Hermione did have an idea. Nicholas Flamel! It had been right there under her nose! She already knew so much about him and the Philosopher's Stone. "We do have an idea," she said. "We just don't want to talk about it yet."

She smiled at Ginny, who was staring at her with wide eyed surprise.

During lunch, Professor McGonagall conferred with the two girls privately and gave them approval.

"Maybe we could get together after school," Hermione said to Ginny. This was just the solution she'd been looking for: a reason to be with Ginny without Harry tagging along.

"I'm hanging out with my old friend, Nicky, after school," Ginny said. Her green eyes gleamed with happiness.

Hermione couldn't hide her disappointment.

"Why don't you come with us anyway?" Ginny suggested.

Hermione hesitated. How could they work on the project or talk about the events in the third year with some strange girl hanging around? "If you're sure it's okay."

Ginny beamed. "Nicky would love to meet you."

o-o-o-o-o

Hermione didn't have the chance to talk to Harry then. And when Professor McGonagall asked him to stay after class along with another boy, to discuss their projects in more detail, Hermione decided not to tell him where she was going. If she did, he would probably give her an argument or find some excuse to come along.

When class was over, he said, "Wait for me outside, Hermione."

"I have to go back to the common room," she told him. "I'll talk to you later."

Hermione skipped outside to meet Ginny.

As they walked through the halls, Hermione said, "Our project will be great! I'm sure glad you thought of it."

Ginny looked surprised. "I didn't think of it, Hermione. You did."

"But you kept talking about how me and Ron and Harry had so many adventures, like in the first year," Hermione said.

"I didn't think of using it as a project," Ginny said. "I just thought maybe you could tell me about it sometime."

Hermione had never met anyone so reluctant to take credit. It was a refreshing quality. "Well, anyway," she said, "we have a project. That's the important thing. And it'll be fun working on it." She glanced back over her shoulder half expecting to see Harry galloping toward them. She was relieved to find the coast clear. She returned her attention to Ginny. "Are you sure she won't mind?"

"Who?"

"Nicky," Hermione said.

Ginny laughed. "Nicky is a ­_he_ – not a _she_!"

After a pause, Hermione said, "Nicky's a… boy?" Letting the full significance sink it, Hermione felt as though she had just received the last piece in a puzzle. Ginny did indeed have a boyfriend. Nicky! Hermione should have known.

"What does he look like?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shrugged. "Tall and sort of blond."

"Is he good looking?"

"I guess. I never thought much about _that_."

Hermione slipped her arm through Ginny's. "I can't wait to meet him," she said.

As they rounded the corner to the common room, Ginny said, "There he is now!"

Ahead, a tall, thin young man was coming out of the portrait hole. Ginny darted ahead. "Nicky!" she called.

Watching for Nicky to hop out of the common room, Hermione picked up her pace.

He waved and smiled.

Ginny flew into his arms. "Nicky! Nicky!" she said.

The boy responded with a laughing embrace.

Hermione stopped cold. Her mouth dropped open. This was Nicky? He had to be at least sixteen!

The boy stood back. "How are you, Ginny?" he said, grinning.

Ginny laughed. "I'm great! How about you?"

"Oh, you know… as good looking as ever," he joked.

Ginny poked his arm. "Very funny!" she said.

They were so easy with one another. It reminded Hermione of her and Harry – the way they used to be.

Smiling broadly, Ginny turned to her. "Hermione," she said, "this is Nicky."

Hermione stepped forward.

Nicky beamed at her. "So this is the famous Hermione. I'm really glad to meet you. Ginny talks about you all the time."

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"Hermione thought you were a girl," Ginny told him.

Hermione wanted to drop through the carpeted floor.

Nicky laughed. "Well, if you'd call me Nick like everybody else, Ginny, people wouldn't make that mistake."

Ginny made a face. "I like _Nicky _better."

Just then, the portrait hole opened and two familiar faces leaned out. It was the Weasley twins! "Hey, Nick, come back in here!" shouted Fred.

"Yeah, we're testing the stink bombs in the girls dorms!" George yelled.

Nicky loped toward the common room.

Watching after him, Ginny said, "Isn't he nice?"

"Real nice," Hermione agreed. "But isn't he… kind of… old?"

Ginny looked puzzled. "Old? For what?"

"To be your… boyfriend?"

Ginny laughed. "Oh, Hermione," she said, "Nicky's not my boyfriend! He's my _friend_!"

**A/N: Next chapter is the not-so-big finale! Yep, it's time to wrap up TWFAF. Review, review, review, because once I've stopped updating they're gonna dry up. Until next time… Alex **


	21. That's What Friends Are For

**Chapter Twenty One**

**-**

**That's What Friends Are For**

"Nicky's your _friend_?" Hermione repeated.

"Actually, he was Fred and George's friend first," Ginny explained. "They were in the same class, but he helped me with Transfiguration sometimes, and we got to be friends, too."

Hermione began to giggle. "I thought he was your _boyfriend_!"

Ginny made a face. "I wouldn't want him for a boyfriend. I wouldn't want anyone for a boyfriend," she said. "Friends are more fun."

"Definitely!" Hermione agreed. Friendship was better than romance – at least for now. She knew that, and yet she had let herself get trapped into playing the game while Ginny had remained free. "You are so _smart_, Ginny," she said. "You are _really_ smart." Then, standing right there, she told Ginny everything.

Ginny listened with interest, interjecting an occasional, "Uh-huh," or "Really?" or "That's awful!"

"We were supposed to be pretending," Hermione concluded, "only now I think Harry might not be pretending anymore and he's no fun to be with – neither am I! I keep hurting his feelings, and I don't know what to do."

"Just tell him you want to go back to being friends," Ginny advised.

Hermione thought about that. It seemed to make perfect sense. And so simple. There must be a catch somewhere. She thought of one. "How can I tell him? It will hurt his feelings."

"Just say it straight out," Ginny told her. "You're probably hurting his feelings all the time, because you're acting different. If you just go back to being yourself…" She shrugged.

Ginny had a point. Hermione _was _a different person around Harry these days. Where before she had been open and accepting, she had closed down and become critical. She had even lied to him today!

Being her honest self might work with Harry. It was certainly work a try. But what would the rest of the class think? If she and Harry did go back to being friends, what would they think? "What about everybody else?" she asked.

Ginny waved that away. "They'll never notice. They've got their own problems."

Hermione laughed. "You can say that again!" Straightening with determination, she added, "I'll meet Harry at Hogsmeade tomorrow."

Ginny smiled warmly. "Go for it, Hermione!"

o-o-o-o-o

Harry was sitting on a bench.

"Come here," Hermione directed. "We have to talk."

Harry shot her an angry glare. "You weren't in the common room," he said accusingly. She hadn't often seen this side of him before. He was mad at her.

"I was with Ginny."

"I know. Fred and George told me."

"It was the only way I could get away from you, Harry," she explained. "If I told you I was going to hang out with Ginny…" She couldn't talk to him like this; the whole neighbourhood would hear her. "Come _here_, Harry. I need to talk to you."

After a long pause, he said, "What about?"

He was so infuriating.

"I don't want to be your girlfriend anymore – pretend or not – that's what about!" She pivoted sharply and marched away down the path.

There was a shuffling sound behind her and suddenly he was at her side.

"Why not?"

Coming to a dead halt, she whirled to face him. "Because you're no fun anymore, that's why!" she shouted.

He chortled. "And you are?" He leaned in so close their noses touched. "You don't want to be my girlfriend? That's just great, because I don't want to be your boyfriend either!"

Her hands flew to her hips. "Nothing could make me happier, Harry Potter!"

"So we're both happy!"

He was so close her eyes crossed. "Yes!"

He backed off. "Then why are we shouting?"

She couldn't help it. She laughed. And then Harry joined in.

"Oh, Harry," she said as soon as she regained her composure, "I'm so glad you're not mad at me."

"I thought it would be a good idea, you and me…" He shrugged.

"You're just too good an actor, Harry. That's all. You even convinced yourself!"

"And the more I believed I really _liked _you," he said, "the less I liked you."

She knew exactly what he meant.

"And besides, romance just takes up too much time. Do you realize I almost failed my Transfiguration test from not studying because I was hanging out with you?"

"That's not myfault, Harry," she said. "I didn't ask you to spend all that time with me. I didn't _want_ you to spend all that time with me."

His eyes twinkled. "Do you think that made it any easier?"

Hermione gave him a swat. "Oh, you!" she said with a smile.

As they ambled along the pathway, he said, "I'm sure glad that's over!"

Hermione cocked her head to look at him. "It was pretty awful," she said. But she felt she had learned from the experience. She'd never again try to play a role she wasn't ready for. And she would always be honest with friends no matter what.

Harry broke into her thoughts with a poke.

She followed his gaze. They were approaching the Shrieking Shack.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

Laughing, she began to race him to the rock wall.

Though he could easily outrun her, he hung back. "You're really going to do it, huh, Hermione?" he said as she climbed atop the wall.

Standing triumphantly on top, her arms outspread, she said, "I _am _doing it!"

He clambered up beside her, and, with Hermione as leader, they made their way along the wall.

An almighty screech came from the house, making Hermione and Harry jump.

Giving a little squeal, Hermione leapt back down and started to run away. Harry followed quickly behind her. They fled from the shack as fast as they could, their hearts beating and adrenaline pumping. As their sprinting began to slow to a jog, they both began to laugh.

o-o-o-o-o

They were still laughing when they got to Honeydukes.

Some of their classmates waved to them from a table in the corner. They all looked glum.

"What'll you have?" Harry asked Hermione.

Just as she always did, Hermione studied the glass displays of candy.

"As if I didn't know," Harry added under his breath.

"I think I'll have Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," Hermione said.

Harry reeled back. Then, recovering, he placed his hands on his stomach and doubled over. "Order me a doctor," he joked.

Hermione smiled. "It's worth dodging the snot flavoured beans for the marshmallow ones."

Parvati stared at them enviously. "They always have so much fun together," she said. "Why do they always have so much fun?"

Hermione overheard her. Smiling at Harry, she explained, "We're friends. Friends always have fun together."

Harry returned her grin. "_That's _what friends are for."

**A/N: And that's the end of my little story! Hopefully I haven't angered any hardcore Harry/Hermione shippers – but they're just friends. For now. I'm toying with the idea of a sequel set after Hogwarts when they're all growed up. **

**Speaking of which, I'm canning the idea of the trilogy thing. I can't really be bothered. **

**So… yeah. I guess I'm done. Look out for the as-yet-unnamed-sequel in the works! So long and goodnight… Alex xoxo**


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